Dark Side of the Moon
by Manwathiel
Summary: Sequel to Lost in My Mind. They were both smitten, completely in love. But on return to Mirkwood, a dark secret is revealed to the elf prince and he rejects her. Can his family knock sense into him or will they reject her as well?
1. Heart of Fire

**And I'm back:D Who missed me::cricket chirp:: …Yea, that doesn't surprise me. Anywho, here is the sequel to 'Lost in My Mind'. So, if you are new and haven't read the prequel to this, you might want to go back and read it. Enjoy!**

**To my older reviewers, revamping is still happening on LIMM, albeit slowly. Be sure to check back occasionally. :D **

**Disclaimer: LOTR does not belong to me. I don't own anything except my original characters. **

**XX**

Chapter 1- Heart of Fire

No…this couldn't be happening…what was going on?

Faces were everywhere, laughing faces that leapt out at him from the dark corners of the cramped room. Bright, yellow eyes danced in the shadows and the sound of talons upon stone echoed in the chamber, ringing in his sensitive ears. Bony fingers pulled at his clothing and his hair, but he was not able to scream. Tears rolled down his cheeks, dampening the ground beneath him, and his mouth was opened wide to cry for help. But no matter what he did, he could not more nor speak. He was helpless, lying in a place that was wholly unfamiliar to him. He feared that his heart would burst at the rate it was pounding.

The sound of steel sliding steel came from behind him and he struggled to sit up, but found himself unable to do so. His wrists and ankles had been chained to a nonexistent floor, and he was vulnerable to the jabbing fingers. Heavy footsteps made his way towards him, but he could not distinguish where they were coming from; the echoes in the room made it impossible to do so. He was then aware of a presence kneeling beside him, and he could sense malice and hate pouring from its body. He thrashed violently yet hopelessly, trying desperately to get away, but the chains would not budge. Cold steel was placed upon his neck, and only when he fel wipe cruelly against his burning flesh was he able to let lose a blood-curdling scream for help into the dark abyss.

"Legolas!" He cried, his body jolting from the shock of death. He kicked frantically against his attacker, but soon realized that he had regained mobility of his limbs. Immediately, his hands went to his throat and touched it, examining it for its wound. But when he pulled his fingers away, there was no blood as he expected there to be. His heart began to slow, and he began to become aware of his surroundings. Blinking rapidly, he sat up quickly and gazed around.

A small ray of moonlight filtered in through the glass windows, silk curtains billowing gently against the cool breeze. The sound of night birds and crickets were outside, but there was still a peaceful sort of silence. All signs of groping hands and shining eyes were gone, and the only thing he felt was the warm cloth of his nightclothes.

Flopping back down onto his pillow, he sighed tiredly and touched his neck once again to feel a small scar along the side, "Ai, what a dream." He muttered to himself. He looked over to his side, hoping to find a particular someone beside him, but remembered that she had left days ago. A frustrated frown marred his face and he set his eyes upon the ceiling, "That's why I didn't want to propose."

For a moment, he toyed with the idea of attempting to fall back to sleep, but knew that it would be senseless. Instead, he swung the thin sheets off his body and set his feet on the floor. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with the balls of his palms, then stumbled his way across the large room to grab a long robe from the back of a couch and then headed out into the hall.

As he walked, he gazed upon the numerous paintings and banners that adorned the walls with a new sort of appreciation. Even still, he was thankful to be back among his people, even if a good part of them were still in the care of the healers. He made it a habit to walk and speak with them everyday, just to assure them that the royal family still cared and wished for their wellbeing. And having experienced it first hand himself, he knew that he was the perfect candidate for this job.

He came to his brother's door without even realizing the time go by, and he stood before it, wondering what his decision would cause. The young elf prince had been aggravated of late, speaking to no one about anything, and it was beginning to irritate all who had business with him. On one occasion, a young maid had come to collect his dirty bedding, but he promptly snapped at her and drove her out of the room. Such behavior was unacceptable for a prince.

Hardening his resolve, he grabbed hold of the knob and twisted, pushing the door open, and he peered inside. Not to his surprise, he found the one he sought standing upon the balcony on the far side of the room, his hair billowing about in the crisp wind like golden blades of grass in a meadow. He knew that his brother sensed his presence, for his calm demeanor was suddenly snatched away and replaced with frustration.

"Legolas?" The Crown Prince called as he shut the door behind him. His skin tingled and prickled at the wave of animosity sent his way. Tentatively, he stepped towards the younger elf and came upon the balcony, standing a foot away from him, "What has you up?"

A dangerous snarl was his only reply. The older elf's lips thinned and his eyes rolled heavenward.

"I take it you would prefer to be treated like an animal, is that it?" He drawled sarcastically. His brother's shoulders tensed, and he smirked in response, "Very well. Legolas, come!" No response, "Speak!"

"I do not have to answer to the likes of you."

"Ah, that's a good lad." The elf teased, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robe. His fair skin had quickly begun to burn from the sharp breezes, "Now, come inside and I will find a treat for you."

There was another aggravated growl from the younger prince, "Why don't you try a little maturity, _Nóruion_?" This time, it was the Crown Prince's turn to glare.

"I was only trying to cheer you up, _little brother_." He shot back, "But if you plan to continue this bitter attitude of yours, I suggest at least enlightening us on what has gotten your leggings in a knot."

"Don't talk to me like that." Legolas muttered, "I'm not a child."

"I know you are not, Gwador, so don't act like one." He answered, his voice considerably softer. Cautiously, as if approaching a cornered wolf, he came up beside the younger ellon and placed his hands on the banister, gazing out into the dark forest, "Why will you not speak of what ails you? We only wish to help."

"I do not ask for it."

"But you will receive it nonetheless."

Legolas suddenly snapped his head towards his brother, his cerulean eyes shining with anger, and the Crown Prince recoiled slightly, "Will I, now?" He repeated, spitting out his words, "And what if I refuse it? Will you simply come up with some other seemingly intelligent philosophy to throw in my face in an attempt to gain enough sympathy that I may open up?" His lips curled back in a snarl, "Not this time, Nórui."

"Legolas!" Nórui called in frustration as the young elf turned his back to him, storming back into the dark chamber. Sighing heavily, the Crown Prince shook his head in exasperation before following, "You must speak eventually, you know. Or I could always talk to Espenshade."

"She will tell you nothing." He ground out from somewhere in the dark.

Casually, the Crown Prince leaned up against a cherry wood dresser and watched as the other ellon took a long match from his nightstand, struck it, and put flame to an elegant oil lamp. He waited for his brother to get comfortable on the bed before speaking again.

"Then perhaps I would get more information from Jaimea?"

That seemed to strike a nerve, for the tension in the air had suddenly grown to a stifling amount. The elf even stood up straight in case his brother decided to lash out at him, but he never did. He did not need actions to express his bitterness.

"Legolas…" Nórui started apprehensively.

"Get out." The prince said slowly, biting back his true emotions.

"I only want to-"

"I said, get out!" Legolas shouted, whirling around to glare daggers at the older ellon. His teeth bared, he grabbed the neck of the oil lamp and held it in the air, poised to throw it if needed, "Now!"

The Crown Prince gazed long and hard at the elf, his eyes questioning, yet he received no answer. Exhaling through his nose, he nodded curtly and strode fro m the room, shutting the door calmly so as not to reveal his raging frustration with his brother.

When the sounds of the elf's footsteps in the hall died away, Legolas sighed tiredly and lowered the lamp, replacing it back on the nightstand. His bright eyes reflected the light of the flickering flames, dancing across the surfaces, but the elf shut his eyes against it. He fell back onto the bed, his golden hair fanning wildly about him like a halo, and he bit his bottom lip until he felt a small drop of blood on his tongue. What was wrong with him? Why did he turn his brother's help away? He only wanted him to be happy.

It wasn't his business to begin with, the prince thought, pushing his previous wonderings away. He could take care of his own problems, without _him_.

But even so, he felt his heart grow cold and his mind wander into shadows. It was true; ever since that day, he had secluded himself from everyone, even his best friend: Espenshade. The young Muruien who only wished to be with him, forsaking her family so that she may fulfill her promise to the prince's late mother, yet he pushed even her away. She had questioned him about his odd disposition, but he snapped at her, and she returned the favor by giving him the cold shoulder. The only one whom he truly trusted to keep secrets was ignoring him.

And then when his brother had mentioned _her_, he completely lost his composure. The root of all his troubles, he never wanted to hear her name again, not even in his mind. She was a liar, couldn't be trusted, and yet he did not hate her; he could not. Instead, his hatred was directed at himself. He had fallen head over heels in love with her, thus being taken in by her guile. She played him for an idiot, and he allowed her to do it.

Jaimea, sister to his mother's murderer and to the one who tore his family apart. He never wanted to see her, to speak to again. She was nothing to him. He would never fall for her tricks again.

Never.

**XX**

**Well, that was a positive chapter, wasn't it? But even so, I think it is a good start for the new story. Sorry it took so long to get out, but I've been very busy. And also, the chapters may not be much longer than this. At the most, ten or eleven pages, because I don't want my beta to abandon me, lol. Well, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of LIMM's sequel, 'Dark Side of the Moon'! **

**Oh, and this author LOVES reviews! **

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel **


	2. Private Conversations

**I return to thee. Woothood. Enjoy this chapter! **

**Disclaimer: See chapter one. **

**XXXXX**

Chapter 2- Private Conversations

The doors to the king's grand study burst open loudly, and the Elvenking glanced up from his paperwork to see his oldest son, Nórui, marching quickly towards him. He sighed tiredly as he ran his hand down his face, already knowing that something was wrong. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what it was.

"Ada," Said the young elf, approaching the desk and gripping onto the edge of the wood tightly, "I have a simple request for you."

"Oh?" The king, Thranduil, prompted as he groaned inwardly.

"I ask permission to toss my pig-headed brother off the palace roof."

Had it not been for the serious look on his son's face, the elf lord would have burst out laughing. And he almost did, despite the seriousness in which Nórui presented his 'request', but he stifled the urge. Instead, he simply set his quill back into his small pot of ink, and folded his hands in front of him.

"Not until you tell me why exactly you would wish to do this." He answered in the same manner.

"Because he is acting like a spoiled child! I am hoping that by falling, some sense will be knocked into his thick skull on impact!"

"Nórui," Thranduil started with slight agitation in his voice, "Leave your brother alone. He will talk when he is ready."

"Maybe, but I am ready to talk _now_."

Kneading his forehead with two fingers, the king exhaled loudly, "Did you try asking Jaimea? I'm sure she knows something." An un-elflike snort issued from the young prince as he crossed his arms tightly across his chest.

"They haven't talked in weeks, Ada. Something tells me that yet another problem has sprouted up between them."

Thranduil scoffed, then picked up his quill again, "Why do you even ask me for advice when you shoot down everything I say?"

"I didn't ask for your advice!" Nórui exclaimed, "I only asked for your permission to-"

"Yes, I realize that, Nóruion, and that request has been denied." He ignored the outraged look on his son's face, "Now, please have your tantrum elsewhere, and not in my study."

The prince growled in irritation deep in his throat, then spun around and stomped rather ungracefully out of the room. Thranduil watched him go with a small frown upon his lips, and he shook his head in exasperation. He had changed, he noticed, ever since he returned from that 'adventure'. In the past, he was never concerned with his brother's issues, but now he seemed to take on the role of his father, almost.

Dipping the tip of the quill in the ink, he resumed his task and let all thoughts of his son leave his mind.

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"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady." The elleth gushed, her eyes wide with wonder. Bowing deeply at the waist, she continued, "I am honored."

The two dark haired smiled and chuckled softly under their breath, "You need not be so nervous, you know." One of them said, "Any friend of Jaimea is a friend of ours."

"Even so, I must pay my respects to you." She insisted, "After all, you are the princesses of this kingdom."

"Wilyawing," The same elleth laughed, her cheeks flushed in amusement, "Please, your kind words are appreciated, though unnecessary. You may call us by our rightful names, Lothron and Melyanna."

The elf, Wilyawing, looked up to them with a large grin upon her face, "Thank you, my la- Lothron!" She laughed, and her eyes seemed to sparkle with happiness. She turned to the other elleth standing not far behind her sister, "And thank you, too, Melyanna!" Brushing back her dark curls behind her pointed ear, the overly exuberant elf turned back to her companion, "Jaimea, why are you so quiet?"

"Yes, what has been troubling you?" Melyanna asked, coming to stand beside her sister. The golden haired elleth started slightly as if pulled from a dream, and she gave them all half-hearted smiles.

"It is nothing." She answered.

"If our idiotic brother did something to you again, just say the words and we'll straighten him out for you." Lothron added, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. Jaimea laughed, shaking her head.

"No, it is fine. Everything is alright."

But everything was not alright, she told herself as the other three leapt into conversation. Ever since she had told Legolas about her brother, Elinyro, he had completely ignored her, snapping at her if she even so much as showed her face around him. Why would he reject her like that? She had no control over who her brother was, or what he did to the royal family. Why must she be the one to take the blame for it, even after he had been dealt his punishment?

Now, she worried whether or not the prince would tell his family about it. She could imagine what they would say to her, wishing that they never see her again. If Legolas reacted as he did, it would seem that everyone else would say the same thing. Images of the king banishing her from the kingdom entered her mind, or her body burning in the same fires that had taken Elinyro. Was it really that important to him?

Absently brushing a stray hair from her eyes, she hugged herself tightly around the waist. Perhaps they weren't all like him, and would accept her still. By telling someone else, she took the chance of someone overhearing and spreading it around the palace. But who would she tell? The two princesses were the best candidates, particularly Lothron, but they were both very protective of their little brother. The king was a definite no, and Espenshade lost her lover to the elf- she knew for a fact that she would be against her. If she told someone who worked in the palace, it would eventually get back to Thranduil, so that left only one person…

"Jaimea!" A male voice called to her from behind

Nórui.

"Wonderful." She whispered under her breath, then quickly plastered an overly cheerful smile upon her face and looked over her shoulder at him, "Good morning, Prince Nórui."

"You know you don't have to call me that." He told her as he approached. He fought the urge to roll his eyes when he saw the obviously fake smile she was giving him, but chose to ignore it. That was a sign that she was hiding something, and he had every intention on finding out what it was.

"I know," She answered, "But it seems more respectful."

The prince scoffed under his breath. Something was definitely wrong.

"Well, in that case, I shall use my power to command you not to use my title anymore." The ellon smirked triumphantly at the annoyed look on the elleth's lips, but he soon sobered. He took a step closer and placed a hand on her shoulder, then leaned in to speak quietly, "If you have the time, I'd like to speak to you for a moment."

Jaimea tensed, "About what?"

"I was hoping that you may know something about Legolas's sudden anger streak."

"Oh." Was her answer. To tell him, or not to tell him… she sighed inwardly. She had to do it eventually, "Alright."

"So you do know something?"

"I think so, yes."

A relieved smile formed upon the Crown Prince's lips, and he placed a kiss upon her forehead, "Thank you, Jaimea. Whenever you have free time, come see me."

"Right now." She blurted out before thinking about it, and she immediately regretted it. She had wanted to tell him soon, but not now. She was not ready to so yet, not so soon after she had told Legolas, "If you want, I mean."

"The sooner, the better." He answered cheerfully, "I am already sick of my brother's moping." He gave her yet another smile, then looked over her shoulder to the three awaiting ellith, "If you don't mind, I'm going to steal this lady for a moment. I'll be sure to return her unharmed and in good health." He teased, adding a playful wink for good measure. The two princesses smirked, nodding their heads to him, and then they dragged away the other clearly-amazed elleth.

When they were gone, Nórui took Jaimea's hand and tucked it in his arm, then began to stroll down the hall in the opposite direction the other three had gone. Immediately, he burst into conversation, "So, where would you prefer? The library, or maybe the kitchen so that we may have a little something to-"

"Somewhere private." She cut him off, and he looked at her oddly, "I don't want anyone to find out about this."

"What do you mean? That we are together?" He asked carefully and slowly, unsure of his decision to talk to her now.

"No, about what I'm about to tell you. No one can know about this; at least, not yet." The Crown Prince continued to look at her cautiously, but nodded anyways and readjusted his hold on her.

"Very well. We will go to my chambers."

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Once they arrived at the Crown Prince's private chambers, the elleth wandered in slowly and gazed around in amazement at the lavishing articles that were placed around the room. She had thought that her room was beautiful, but this made it appear as a shack. Everything was pristine and clean, like no one even occupied it. The plush carpet was so soft that her feet sunk down into it, and the bed sheets were without a single wrinkle. The windows were closed, but it was not stuffy, nor did it feel confined as it usually did in her chambers. The elf beside her shivered slightly, and she watched him walk across the room and crouch down at the grand fire place, poking around the already burnt wood. Once he appeared satisfied, he struck up a small, crackling fire and turned to her with a pleasant smile.

"Come here." He motioned with his hand for her to come to him, and she obeyed hesitantly. If she was anticipating this conversation before, she was now terrified.

The elleth folded her hands in her lap as she sat down upon the carpet before the fire, ignoring the prince as he took a seat beside her. She took a discreet glance at him, seeing him gazing into the flames, and she realized that he was only waiting for her to speak. Though it was meant to comfort her, it made her feel even more restless.

"I suppose I should explain."

"Only if you are ready to. I can sense that you are uneasy in this situation." He answered softly.

"Perhaps, but it must be said sooner or later."

And so she did, albeit reluctantly. It seemed that once she started, she couldn't stop, and she felt herself falling deeper and deeper into an inescapable hole. Her body shook from nervousness, her cheeks flushed, her palms sweaty. The Crown Prince said not a word throughout the whole thing, his eyes shut and brows furrowed, fists tightly clenched into the soft carpet. When she had explained everything from the very beginning to the end, she only wished that the flames would leap out from the fireplace and engulf her body.

Much to her displeasure, they did no such thing, and she was left on the floor with the ellon beside her. His lack of words did nothing to ease her discomfort.

"I'm sorry." She whispered after a long moment, and she began to rise to her feet, but the ellon's hand squeezing her own stopped her.

"We're not finished yet."

Jaimea swallowed the growing lump in her throat and obeyed, hanging her head as she waited for the explosion that was about to come.

"I want you to be honest with me, Jaimea." He said hoarsely, his voice cracking from the tears that threatened to spill forth. This made her feel even worse, knowing that she had brought him to this level, "Did you have anything to do with Elinyro's plans?"

"Of course not." She answered immediately, "I would never do that to your family."

"Did you know what he was going to do? Surely, you knew something that could have prevented that from happening…"

"As I said, he told me horrible things, but he never once mentioned doing anything to your family. I swear to you, I did not know his full intentions." He answered desperately, hoping that she could turn the conversation in her direction. She already had more luck than she did with Legolas, and she only hoped that it would continue that way.

After a few more moments of silence, the ellon spoke again, "You are sure that this is what is bothering my brother?"

"I cannot think of anything else."

"Then remind me to beat him in the head next time I see him." He said agitatedly, "This is no reason for him to become so idiotic."

At first, the elleth thought that she had heard him wrong, blinking rapidly in confusion. The smirk on his face told her otherwise, and a relieved smile couldn't help but spring up. As joyful tears slipped down her cheeks, she cried out in happiness and threw her arms around his neck. She could feel his laughter rumble in his chest, and it sounded so beautiful to her ears as all tension left her body.

"Thank you so much!" She whispered over and over, her fingers tight on his tunic. He did not say anything to her, only holding her to his chest, "Sometimes I wish that your brother could be more like you. I…I love him, but he can be immature sometimes, especially when I don't want him to be."

Nórui chuckled, "Are you saying that I can't be immature? I can be very childish if I choose to be." Seeing the mischievous smirk on his face, the elleth pulled away and scooted backwards.

"What are you…Nórui!" She cried as he lunged for her, just barely missing her as she leapt to her feet and hurried for the door. His laughter met her ears as he followed after, quickly closing the gap between them and grabbing her around the waist and pulling her back to the floor.

"You won't get away that quickly, my lady!" He exclaimed, ignoring her pleas for him to let her go. Screeching in laughter, she struggled to escape from his tickling hands, batting him away weakly.

"Please!" She gasped for breath, "No more!"

As if those were the magic words, the elf stopped his teasing and the grin shrank to a warm smile. He rested himself on his elbows, allowing her to catch her breath as he gazed down at her, "I am sorry that my brother is the way he is." He whispered, almost as if to himself, but the elleth listened silently, "He doesn't always think, and he allows emotions to rule him."

Reaching up with her fingers, the elleth touched his cheek comfortingly, "Maybe, but it is one of the many reasons why we love him, is it not?"

The Crown Prince shut his eyes in thought, nodding carefully, "I only hope that he will come to his senses." He gazed down at her seriously, "One day, I hope I am able to call you my sister, and call your children my nieces and nephews."

"I think it is a little too soon to be making plans for that, you know." She laughed, despite the small blush spreading over her cheeks. Nórui simply shrugged, then leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead.

The ellon was forced to sit up quickly when he heard his doors open. He glanced over to see who had entered, plastering a smile on even though he was somewhat annoyed that the person didn't even knock, but the smile quickly disappeared. Jaimea looked over to what had caught his attention, her breath hitching at the sight, and she quickly sat up. Nórui sighed heavily.

'Oh, wonderful…'

**XXXXX**

**Gee, I wonder who that is. ::cough:: Eheh. **

**I had difficulties writing this chapter correctly… I keep imagining everyone as anime people with the same sort of reactions. What's worse is that I was tempted to use Japanese, too. Sigh. I need to take a break from manga… later. :D **

**I've been having a very negative pattern so far, huh? Maybe something good will happen later. Maybe. Thanks for reading!**

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel **


	3. Satisfaction?

**I am in a very good mood right now. I'm listening to Japanese pop and rock, and I've found that it helps pump my creative juices. Yay! So, let's see how this chapter turns out::sings along with music:: **

**XXXXX**

Chapter 3- Satisfaction?

As soon as he saw his brother frozen in the doorway, Nórui immediately realized what his position may have looked like to a new arrival, and so he quickly remedied the situation by coming to his knees with a pleasant smile on his face, "Good morning, Legolas. I am glad to see you looking so well." The Crown Prince judged the younger elf's reaction, but found that his attention wasn't even on him.

Locked under the golden haired ellon's steely glare was Jaimea, cowering in the looming shadow of the prince. There were no words spoken between the two, but they knew that they were not necessary. The tension sparked and crackled in the air around them, making even the hairs on the back of Nórui's neck stand on end. In an attempt to drag his brother's gaze towards him, the ellon stood.

"Will you not even give your brother proper greeting?" He prompted.

"From my eyes, said brother does not deserve that proper greeting." Legolas answered, his tone dangerously low. The Crown Prince blanched at the harshness of his words, then took a small, protective step in Jaimea's direction.

"Legolas, I know what is going through your mind right now, and I completely understand." He made to continue, but the younger elf beat him to it.

"Do you now? Well, I suppose my first assumptions were correct then. This elleth has clearly bewitched you into falling for her, saddened by the loss of her former prey."

There was a sudden confused silence in the room as Nórui struggled to grasp the meaning behind the elf's choice of words. He knew what he was implying, but… was that truly what he thought? Was his mind so cluttered that he believed he and Jaimea to be…?

"What are you talking about?" He forced out finally, his jaw hanging slightly slack, "Jaimea hasn't done anything to me. We have only been talking."

An un-elflike snort was his response as Legolas turned away from them, his arms crossed over his chest and nose pointed upwards in a superior manner, "You expect me to believe that when I walk in here, hoping to confide in the one whom I trust most- my own brother- and I find him sprawled on the floor with," He sneered at the pale elleth, "Her."

"'Sprawled'?!" The Crown Prince cried in outrage, letting all composure he had slip from his grasp, "I think you are the one who is bewitched!"

"I will hear no more on this matter." The younger elf said crossly, turning his back to them, "I'll leave you and that wench alone now." And with that, he left the room, slamming the doors behind him.

A few tense moments passed before the shaken elleth glanced up to the Crown Prince, tears welling up in her eyes. She wiped them away with the back of her head, then swallowed the lump in her throat, "Don't pay attention to him, Nórui. He'll come around. Eventually."

"Perhaps, but that 'eventually' has to be now."

"Please, Nórui, just let it… wait, where are you going?" She clambered to her feet as he took long, purposeful strides in the direction the younger prince had gone, a determined gleam in his eye. Jaimea hurried after him, not even bothering to hike up her long skirts, "What are you going to do?" She tried again, but received no answer from him.

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As he strode down the hall, he let his feet take him where they will. He had no particular destination in mind, except to run far away from the two elves he had just left. At the moment, he wanted nothing to do with them. To him, they had both betrayed him, and he couldn't trust either of them.

And yet at the same time, a voice told him from the recesses of his mind that is was him who was betraying them. It was him that was turning his back on them, kicking dirt in their faces. This was true, he knew, but he couldn't allow himself to accept it. He had every right to be angry, right?

…Right?

"Of course, I do." He answered for himself, knowing that no one was there to answer it for him, "She lied to me for all this time, and then tricked my own brother into loving her, even when he is arranged to be married."

The pain of a headache was forming at his temples, and so he slowly untied the braids at the side of his head to release the pressure, running his fingers through the fine strands to shake it loose. When he was satisfied, he stopped and leaned against the wall, crossing his legs at the ankles.

Why hadn't she told him?, he asked himself over and over again, did she truly not trust him enough? He mentally scoffed, knowing that his reaction would have probably been the same had she told him the moment they met. Except it wouldn't have hurt him so much to do so.

Legolas glanced out of the corner of his eye when he heard quick footsteps coming towards him from the same direction he had come. With a little concentration, he could sense the Crown Prince's presence swiftly approaching with the elleth behind him, and he growled in frustration. Could he have no peace?

Just as he had guessed, Nórui soon turned the corner with a determined gleam in his face, and so the younger prince pushed himself from the wall and steeled himself for whatever the ellon had in store for him. He was not surprised to see Jaimea peeking around to corner with concern in her eyes.

The younger prince set his legs apart to brace himself, clenching his fists as his side. Whatever his brother had up his sleeve, he was prepared for it, "What do you want, Nórui?" He spat.

But his answer never came. At least, not in the manner he had expected it to come. Before he knew what had hit him, he found himself sprawled on the ground with a rapidly swelling jaw. A low groan of pain came from his throat, and he blearily glanced up to his brother. The Crown Prince's hand was still curled into a fist, a small line of blood trickling from his knuckles, a deadly gleam in his emerald eyes.

All at once, the anger that had been pent up in the young elf erupted, unable to keep itself contained anymore. With a low growl, the golden haired prince sprang up from the ground and dealt his own blow to the ellon.

A blind rage came over both of the brothers, all rationality and thought evacuating their minds. They could hear the panicked cries of the elleth behind them, begging them to stop their fighting, but they were deaf to it. Their frustration, anger, and confusion of the past few days was finally able to escape.

"Stop it!" She shouted, her face flushed. Her body shook with fear and worry for both elves, unsure of how to bring them back to their senses. She watched on in horror as a well-placed kick to the stomach from Nórui sent Legolas crashing against the wall. The mahogany haired prince ran forward to send a fist to his brother's jaw, but impacted instead with the wall as the other elf ducked, rolling out of the way and leaping up behind to slam the Crown Prince's face into the wall.

"I said, stop!" She tried again, her composure quickly failing. She only hoped that someone would be passing by and hear them, but as the fight went on and only seemed to worsen, it became apparent that no one would come in time. She couldn't just let them keep this up! Legolas had gained the advantage, for the older elf still had not caught his breath since his brother had shoved him into the wall. The elleth winced when there was a sickening crunch at the impact of the younger ellon's fist, and knew she had to do something.

Her desperate cries did not stop as she charged forward, intending to pull the two apart, though knowing in her heart that she would be unable to do so. Nonetheless, she continued forward and grabbed Legolas's arm, pulling back with all her strength to keep him from striking again, but he only growled in anger and turned upon her. Jaimea's eyes widened at the ferocity on his face, immediately regretting her hasty actions.

"Stay back, wench!" He shouted. Without even a moment's thought, he rounded his fist upon the side of her face, sending her crashing to the floor, and realizing the consequences behind his actions only after he had done them. When the full realization of what he had just done came to him, anger seemed to flood out of his body and was replaced with disbelief.

Nothing more was needed to knock the two out of their fighting, seeing the lady upon the ground without any movement. The Crown Prince struggled to clear his eyes, blinking rapidly, while Legolas only stood where he has, his cerulean eyes gazing down at the elleth with little emotion. He did nothing as his brother pulled himself beside her, placing his hand on her cheek and shaking gently. He called her name softly, eliciting no response. Frowning, he tilted her head to get a better view of the swollen area.

After a moment, the elf placed a hand behind his back to steady himself, but found himself falling to his bottom anyways. He ran his fingers through his tousled hair, then turned his head to glare over his shoulder.

"I hope you are satisfied."

"You started it in the first place." Legolas crossed his arms, wincing slightly when he jarred one of his wounds, "She shouldn't have gotten involved."

"Instead of arguing about it, how about you help me take her to the healing wing?" The Crown Prince suggested, gritting his teeth together as he tried to chain back his returning rage. For a moment, he thought the ellon would consent and help him, but he seemed to change his mind suddenly. Instead, he simply turned away and started off down the hall, attempting yet failing to hide the limp he now carried.

"You began it," He called over his shoulder, "You clean up the mess."

"Legolas!" Nórui shouted angrily, though the other pretended not to hear him, "Get back here now! You love this woman, yet you walk away from her when she is injured! Some prince you are!"

But the golden haired elf continued to ignore his brother, thought not without a mountain of remorse weighing down his shoulders.

**XX**

**Will I ever break this negativity streak? Hmm… eventually. Bwahaha! But next chapter, I promise some uplifting and positive moments! Yay! I hope I updated a little quicker for you this time. ;) Thanks for reading! Now, make this author even happier and REVIEW! And thanks to my awesome beta for editing for me::monsterglomp:: **

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel**


	4. Secret Visitations

**I am very happy with how this story is going. I already have a lot more reviews than I did when I started LIMM, so that puts me in a good mood. Keep it up, people! It's my motivation!**

**I'll think you'll like this chapter. For once, I won't be lying when I say that it is positive! Yay! **

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Chapter 4- Secret Visitations

The cold breeze whipped through the elleth's dark, wavy locks as she sailed through the air, lost in her own thoughts. The rhythmical beating of wings pumping through the air was the only sound around her, aside from the shrill whistling by her pointed ears. As she felt herself climb higher into the air, she instinctively clung tighter to the thick neck of her mount. She felt a rumble from the creature's chest at her action, followed by an irritated snort once she had leveled off again.

"You are awfully silent." The creature muttered, turning its large head back to glance at the elf. When she made no sign of speaking, he continued, "Is something bothering you, Iaurtondariel?"

"No," She answered softly. She tore her eyes from the creature and towards the north, able to make out only a thin, black line on the horizon. That was the way it had been for days, nothing but yellows below them and darkness behind. It seemed to her that they had gone no where very quickly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," She answered again, hesitating a moment, "Just a feeling."

There was silence from the silver dragon below her, though she could still feel his piercing gaze on her. She offered a him a reassuring smile and she saw the corners of his mouth turn up as if to return it, though she wasn't sure if it was intentional or not. The dragon looked forward again and increased his speed to catch up with their companions, leaving Iaurtondariel to retreat into her own thoughts once again.

The more she thought about the elves back in Mirkwood, the more uneasy she felt. As soon as she had left that place, an odd feeling began to form in her heart and it had not dissipated. It only seemed to grow worse with each beat of the creature's mighty wings.

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"I absolutely cannot believe how you have been behaving!" Shouted a very aggravated, very angry king of Mirkwood. His face had changed from its normal pale color to an interesting shade of purple, and a large vein throbbed at his temple. His normally well- kept hair was tousled from storming around the room and his emerald eyes blazed with fury and disappointment, "You are the Crown Prince of this kingdom, for Eru's sake, and I find out you've been fighting with your own brother! Not to mention putting an innocent elleth in harm's way!"

"I didn't intend for her to get hurt." Nórui retorted, ignoring the healers as they prodded at his bruised body, "If Legolas wasn't so stubborn, none of this would have happened."

"Don't bring him into this now! His own tongue-lashing will come later." Thranduil shouted, "We are talking about your involvement at the moment."

The younger ellon glared up at his father with steely eyes, but said nothing more. He winced slightly when one of the elleth around him touched a particularly large bruise on his forearm, recoiling slightly from her hands. But she only took his hand and extended his arm back into her reach with a slight huff. He muttered an apology under his breath, though she only nodded in acknowledgement.

"How is Jaimea?" Nórui asked softly a moment later, hoping to divert the conversation onto a different route.

"The healers say that she has awoken, but took a hard blow to the head. They gave her a few herbs to soothe the pain and to knock her out a little while, so she will be fine by tomorrow. Now, stop trying to avoid the subject! Would you mind telling me what compelled you to attack Legolas in such a way?"

"It was his fault to begin with!" The ellon retorted quickly, unintentionally raising his voice, "Jaimea and I were talking in my chambers about what has been bothering Legolas. He found us together and immediately believed that we were in love with each other, though my intentions were only to cheer her up. He claimed that she had bewitched me, and he… spoke poorly of the elleth, to say it in the nicest way."

Much to the elf's relief, the king had seemed to calm slightly, for he had stopped his pacing and now only glowered about the room. His attention was fully on his son, and this seemed to unnerve the prince. He was used to being under his father's scrutiny, but he was rarely alone when it happened. Without the golden haired elf beside him, he felt vulnerable; a feeling he didn't like at all.

"Did you find out why he has been acting this way?" Thranduil asked with less severity.

The Crown Prince opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. He knew that the elleth would not want him to speak of what she had told him to anyone. She wanted the responsibility herself, and so he would allow her that. So he shook his head, looking down at his feet to hide his eyes that would surely betray him, "No, I did not."

A dubious look passed across the king's face, but he said nothing to the young elf. Judging by his reluctance, Nórui did know something, but would not tell what it was. Just as well, Thranduil thought, he would find out eventually.

"Fine." He said, then turned and left the room to hunt down his younger son. The Crown Prince watched him leave with an anxious look. He knew.

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'Aye, my ears are still bleeding.' The golden haired prince thought dreadfully as he lay in bed, gazing up at the ceiling. Right after the king had left his older son, he searched out the youngest to give him Arda's longest scolding. No matter that he was bleeding from almost everywhere and was being forced to relax while ellith scrambled around to heal his scratches and cuts. Thranduil was adamant in dealing the punishment he felt his son deserved.

His bitterness that had accumulated during the day had disappeared, and he was able to relax. Perhaps it was the fight that had allowed him to release this built up energy. But now that it was gone, he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. Considering that the day had already passed and most elves were already asleep, there was very little to entertain himself with.

Having nothing better to do, Legolas let his mind drift to what had occurred that day. Now that is was done with, a painful amount of guilt had settled itself upon his mind. He knew that what he walked on upon between Nórui and Jaimea was nothing to be concerned about. His brother was fiercely loyal to his soon-to-be wife, and so the assumption that he made was done in a moment of built up frustration. They just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Then, even more pain settled upon him when he thought of the elleth that now laid in the healing wing, all because of him. He didn't mean to hit her, he told himself over and over just to make himself feel a little better. But despite this, he felt the overwhelming desire to be sure she was truly alright; to make sure she was as well as everyone said she was.

Forgetting everything that had happened in the past few weeks, Legolas flung the blankets from his body and swung his feet off the bed. He wobbled on his legs for a moment, still aching from the fight, but then hurried out of the room and down the hall. If he was going to see her, he didn't want anyone to find out about it. No one could ever know.

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The Crown Prince was unable to sleep that night, for his mind constantly drifted to the fair haired elleth. After an hour of attempting to sleep, he had given up and sat with Jaimea in her own chambers, hoping that she may wake up. Unbeknownst to him, his brother was in the exact same predicament as he. And so when he heard the door to the room open, he was most surprised to see the fair haired prince enter cautiously. Not wanting to ruin any plans that he may have, the older ellon hid himself away in the shadows, out of sight.

Silently, the golden haired ellon crept across the room towards the foot of the bed, popping himself lightly up onto the mattress. The sleeping elf stirred slightly at the sudden movement and the ellon froze, prepared to bolt should her eyes open. But they never did, and he released the breath he had been holding.

Slinking up the bed like a languid cat, the prince hovered over the sleeping form with worried eyes. He lightly trailed his fingers over the large bruise on her jaw, knowing that he was the cause of the injury. He chewed on his lip gently, wondering exactly what he should do now. He had accomplished what he had come to do, but now that he was here, he never wanted to leave her side again.

Quickly coming to a decision, the ellon carefully lay down beside her, resting his head on the ball of his palm while the other hand gently caressed the tender area on her cheek. Even if she wasn't aware that he was there, he would still value the moment he had with her.

"I'm sorry," He whispered to her, "I didn't mean to hurt you like this. I was just angry at everything and I wasn't thinking correctly. But I wasn't angry at you… I could never be truly angry with you." The prince hoped that she would awake upon hearing his words, but she remained as still as ever, "I didn't mean what I said about you and Nórui, either. I know that he is loyal to Glithiel, and you are still loyal to me." Sighing, the ellon let his head drop, creating a curtain of golden tresses that shielded his actions from the other elf hidden in the room, "Why won't you wake up?"

Again, there was no movement from her.

Accepting defeat, the young elf made to get up, but hesitated. His cerulean eyes fell upon her pale lips and he knew that if he didn't take the opportunity now, he probably wouldn't allow himself to do it later. Swallowing nervously, he stole a glance to be sure her eyes were still closed, then lowered down to place a small kiss upon her mouth. Just a peck, he told himself. She was sleeping, so it would be wrong to do anything other than that.

Bu eemed like it had been so long since they had kissed, and her lips drew him in. He lingered longer than he intended to, hoping and yet dreading that she would respond to him. His heart screamed for him to awaken her and deepen the kiss, but his pride would not allow him to do so. No one could know…

His heart seemed to freeze in his chest when the elleth's lips moved just the slightest against his own. What should he do now? This was what he wanted, wasn't it…?

"Are you awake?" He asked, swallowing past the roughness in his throat. She didn't answer, only sighing softly against him.

Legolas let loose the breath he was holding as his heart began to beat again, pounding louder than he would have liked it to. Not wanting to risk waking her again, he forced himself to sit back and simply gaze upon her face. Brushing a strand of errant golden hair from her forehead, he shut his eyes and allowed himself to finally relax at her side.

But as his mind began to wander and his concentration slackened, he was finally able to pick up the presence that he had been unable to detect until now. He leapt up from the bed as if startled, his bright eyes darting every which way in search of the intruder. He had already recognized who had been watching him, and to say he was frustrated would be an understatement.

"Where are you?" He hissed, knowing that raising his voice would only make things worse, "I know you are hiding somewhere."

"I know it isn't _that_ dark in here, Legolas." He heard his brother chuckle from the corner, "I'm right here, so stop playing around."

"You had no right to come here and listen in on me!"

"I believe that I was here first." Nórui pointed out as he casually strolled back towards his original resting place by the bed. The Crown Prince couldn't help but take some satisfaction in seeing the bruises that the younger elf sported on his face, "So in reality, you were intruding on me."

The older ellon wasn't surprised when Legolas made no comment to that, simply glowering where he stood. He made no intentions of leaving, raising more curiosity in the Crown Prince. He had not at all expected to see his brother do what he did, considering how crossly he treated the elleth during the day, and so wondered what truly went on in the mind of the young prince. Either he was only putting on a façade during the day, or he had completely lost his mind. Nórui voted the latter.

"Legolas," He started softly, moving away from the bed and towards the door to leave, "Will you walk with me for a little while? Unless you aren't done, of course." He added with a playful wink, earning himself a scoff from his brother.

"What for?"

"I want to talk to you." He answered, glancing over his shoulder, "About today."

"There isn't anything to talk about." Legolas muttered as he brushed past the elf, "It's in the past."

The Crown Prince followed after him, his light steps silent against the plush carpet, "I simply want to know what caused you to react in such a way."

"You were the one who attacked, not me!" The golden haired ellon shouted back, attempting though failing to ignore the other prince.

"That's not what I was speaking of. I meant, what made you think that Jaimea and I had fallen for each other?"

"It is obvious." Legolas scowled, "What am I supposed to think when I come in and see you two laying on the floor with each other? That is how I often find you and Glithiel together, curled up by the fire. Now that she will be gone for a while, you wanted someone else to be a replacement until she returned."

A small smile crept up on the Crown Prince's face as he folded his arms behind his back, "I know you don't believe that anymore."

"And why wouldn't I?"

"I heard what you said to Jaimea. Even if she couldn't hear you, you told her that you know she is loyal to you." He answered.

"I said that only to make myself feel better about the whole situation." The younger ellon answered haughtily, swiftly erasing the growing amusement on his brother's face. He may be lying to himself, but he would not allow the other elf think himself victorious in this battle. Intending to increase his momentary advantage over the prince, he continued, "And once Glithiel returns, I plan to tell her in great detail of your recent escapade with your new elleth."

"Legolas!" Nórui exclaimed, immediately coming to a halt and staring at his brother in disbelief, "Stop acting this way! I know why you are angry with her, but don't you realize this behavior is getting you nowhere? Everyone is worried about you."

This time, the younger elf halted and glanced back at the other with an expectant look in his eyes, "If you know, then why don't you share my feelings?"

"Because I know that it would be foolish to do so. Jaimea had no choice in who her family would be, so she cannot be blamed for what her brother did to us."

"But what about _our_ family!?" Legolas cried, coming back to stand before his brother. There was a look of desperation in his eyes, hopelessly searching for someone to understand the workings of his mind, "Think of all that time we have lost because of him! What about Naneth, Nendir, and Ethiriel? And Aerogaladhad, the sister that we will never know! She has been forced to grow up without knowing the comfort and love only a mother can give, all because of _him_!"

Nórui said nothing, only staring hard at the elf he called his brother. He himself did not realize how much conflict the elleth's brother had brought on to them, even if she had nothing to do with it, until the ellon had mentioned it in its entirety. He still didn't agree with him, but he couldn't help but notice the destruction.

"Our sister is under the care of Nendir and his wife. She will be just fine."

"That is not the point of what I'm trying to tell you." Legolas muttered in irritation. Running his hand over his face and through his hair, he sighed heavily, "I just don't understand you."

His sudden frustration now gone, Nórui continued his walk down the hall with his eyes straight ahead. Despite what he may have said previously, the golden haired prince followed slowly after him, "The least you could do is try to talk to her again. I know that, after seeing how you just treated her, you don't want to stay angry forever." He sensed the rising tension emanating from the young elf's body, yet continued anyway, "She does not hold any resentment towards you, you know. She loves you as much as she has in the past."

"I know." Was his dejected answer.

"Then why not prove it to her?"

For a moment, the Crown Prince thought that his brother was actually considering his suggestion. A wave of emotions passed across his face, and he was vaguely reminded of his own paranoia he felt when faced with meeting his friends after passing from the world and returning once more. Thus, he understood what the young elf must have been feeling and thinking- uncertainty, worry, apprehension- unsure if the elleth would accept him again. A smile came to his lips, knowing that the lady would receive him again with only a simple apology.

"I…" The golden haired ellon started, but hesitated. His steps faltered and Nórui waited for him, watching him expectantly, "I'll think about it."

The Crown Prince smiled warmly, "Good answer."

**XXXXX**

**Raise your hand if you are glad we've got some positive energy going on! Yee! So happy:D **

**But even so, this chapter was ANNOYING to write. Towards the end of the conversation between Nórui and Legolas, I got really sloppy and ended up redoing a lot of it. Even now, I'm not completely satisfied with it. ::mutter:: But oh well. **

**PLEASE READ**

**Because of my bad habit of procrastination, I've allowed my gigantic graduation project sneak up on me and so I now have to pretty much write an entire novel in seventeen days, thus eating up any time that I may have between now and then. The time that hasn't already been eaten by driver's education, of course. So I'll have little time to write any chapters until December 14th. So if you all could be patient and wait just a little while for another chapter, that'd be really awesome. Hey, at least I left you with a bright ending! Yay! **

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel **


	5. One Last Request

**I am DONE my project::happy dance:: I don't know what I got on it yet, and it isn't nearly as good as I want it to be, but oh well. The judges didn't even read it, so that works out just fine for me! Yay! Okay, now I have a lot of time to write, since there is nothing else coming up and Winter Break is in two days! Huzzah! Downside? I'm sick with a cold… bleh. But anyway, without further ado, I present to you chapter five!**

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Chapter 5- One Last Request

Legolas watched carefully as the golden haired elleth emerged from her chambers with a long, languid creature trailing at her feet. The elf narrowed his eyes, recognizing the animal as the Komuned he had presented to her while in the Muruien city of Banemera. It had grown immensely in the past few weeks, standing just below her knees now, and it had increased in length. The tail was thin and graceful, swishing back and forth with each movement, and its shoulders rose and fell with each silent step. The elves had begun to fear the creature and its unfamiliarity, though it had not yet posed a threat to them in anyway.

The prince scoffed, and muttered to himself, "Yet."

As the elleth turned a corner, the young prince let out a dejected sigh, coming fully out into the hall she had just left. He chewed on his bottom lip while picking at his nails tentatively. The ellon took a glance down at them, then quickly shoved them in his pockets when he realized he had reduced them to nothing but nubs during the night. After his unexpected encounter with his brother, he found himself unable to find any sleep, and so biting and scratching his nails became his method to pass the time.

A hand on his shoulder seemed to break him out of his thoughts, and he whipped his head around to see who had disturbed him. He had expected it to be the Crown Prince, ready to scold him for not taking the opportunity to talk to her, but was most surprised to see a grinning ellon behind him.

His nose wrinkled, "Good morning, Eleidan."

The elf mimicked the prince's reaction, "Nice to see you, too, Legolas."

Brushing off the ellon's hand, Legolas turned down the opposite direction, ignoring the sound of footsteps following him right at his tail. It was not that he disliked the elf, of course. He actually considered him one of his closest companions in Mirkwood, but Eleidan was the type of person that requires one to be in the mood to be with him to truly appreciate his presence. Optimism and cheerfulness is a good thing, but sometimes this elf took it a little too far. Even the sound of his feet on the ground was bouncy and energetic.

"We haven't had much time to speak together lately." He commented casually, attempting to break the silence.

"You've been recovering." Legolas reminded him, taking a quick glance back at him. Judging by the looseness of his clothing, he could tell that the elf still had not reached perfect health, and his skin had not regained its usual glow. His raven colored hair was less shiny than it had been, his grey eyes less bright, and yet he had the same aura he had before.

"That shouldn't stop you from visiting every once in a while, just to let me know that you haven't locked yourself up to become a hermit." Eleidan teased, but this only made the prince stiffen. The darker haired elf rolled his eyes, then grabbed his friend's shoulder again to stop him, "Alright, enough of your attitude. We are going to solve your little problem."

"What are you talking about?" The prince inquired as the other elf turned him around and began to push him down the hall.

"Your lady friend." Was his answer.

Legolas promptly dug his heels into the carpet, effectively stopping the ellon from going any further. The golden haired elf glared over his shoulder in annoyance, "I can take care of it myself, thank you very much."

"You have yet to prove that to anyone." Eleidan answered quickly, applying more force to get the prince moving again. Legolas stumbled forward, then reluctantly began to shuffle down the hall.

"I will talk to her when I am ready." He tried to assure him, but the elf would have none of it.

"Maybe, but I want my friend back, and this elleth is preventing him from returning. I will get you to talk to her, or I will die trying." He said.

Legolas smirked, "Manwë awaits your impending arrival."

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The sun felt comforting on her bare skin as she basked in its warm rays, tilting her face upwards with a small, grateful smile. The elleth had not allowed herself much time recently to spend outside, instead staying cooped up in her chambers lest she run into someone she would rather not deal with. Her Komuned was enough to keep her company, silent and aloof yet always aware of what was going on around her. The elf had yet to think of a proper name for the animal, believing that no tongue was enough to complimen untamed beauty.

A scuffle from behind her caught her attention, and she lazily looked over her shoulder to see who would disturb her. A heated blush rose up on her cheeks to see the golden haired prince struggling to escape from the grip of a darker elf, one grinning and the other shouting in frustration. She attempted to avert her attention, hoping she would not be notice. Sensing her apprehension, the Komuned stretched languidly, flexing its sharp claws and baring its razor teeth, then laid down before her with its large head on her feet. It blinked blearily at her, then looked around her towards the fighting ellyn.

"Legolas!" The dark elf called laughingly, "Stop struggling! You know you want this."

"Keep your hands off of me, Eleidan!" The prince shouted, batting his friend's hands away, "I don't need your help!"

"Obviously you do, if you cannot even speak to the woman that you love."

Silence followed this, and Jaimea only grew more anxious. Her fingers tugged less than gently at the green grass beneath her. The Komuned attempted to soothe her with a gentle purr, but it didn't have the effects the animal was hoping for.

The sound of crunching grass reached her ears, and her fingers tightened on the grass so that the frail blades were snapped off. Before she knew it, the young prince plopped down a good few feet from her, crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest, and turned his storming eyes away from her. The elleth dared to look over at him, frowning when she saw his stiffly hunched shoulders. The Komuned flickered its tail, but did not acknowledge the ellon.

Jaimea soon began to wonder if he sat there only to prove to his friend that he could tolerate being in her presence, for he said not a word nor took a single glance at her. His arrogance frustrated the elleth, but she was not prepared to move from her spot.

But beneath the tense posture and hard glare was an elf who was panicking to find the correct words to say. His agile fingers fidgeted restlessly, tugging at the loose threads on his pale colored tunic. The skin on his arms began to itch from the fabric that covered them, unused to this covering; the sun was out, but the first greetings of winter was making itself known, and so the elves had begun to dress more warmly. There was a crisp breeze in the forest, and yet the elf prince still felt uncomfortably hot.

As if tired of this stifling silence, the Komuned came to its feet with a wide yawn. Legolas instinctively slid away from the creature when it turned to come to him, issuing forth a slight chuckle from the elleth. The prince froze when the creature touched its nose to his, then suddenly ran its rough tongue over his face. He frowned in disgust, barely noticing the laughter from Jaimea.

He glanced at her questioningly, effectively causing her to shut her mouth. Legolas frowned again, though not at her. He drew his knees up to her chest, stroking the animal's head gently.

"You can laugh if you want to." He said, his tone harder than he would have liked. She stared at him in surprise, then nodded slowly, but she did not say anything. Discouraged, the golden haired ellon dropped his hand from the creature's head, "Though I would like it if you would at least talk to me."

"You are the one who has been unwilling to do so." She said quickly, drawing her legs up underneath of her body.

Legolas opened his mouth to retort, but instead allowed himself to think on his reaction. He could not allow himself to argue with her, not anymore. He wanted there to be peace between them again. Sighing softly, he answered, "I know."

This obviously wasn't what she was expecting, for she seemed to falter in her rigid posture. He dared to glance her way, though quickly averted his gaze to prevent being found out. Jaimea straightened herself again.

"What can I do for you?" She prompted.

"You can start by forgiving me." Was his immediate answer. Again, the elleth flinched as though she did not like how he was answering. The prince knew she did, by the ever growing smile that she tried to hide.

"Forgiving you for which grievance? Judging me based on my brother's decisions or claiming me to have fallen for your brother?"

"Both." He said, moving towards her slightly. When she showed some hesitation, he stopped, "If I may be so bold as to ask you so."

"Legolas…" Her voice faltered, and her head dropped into her palms. The prince watched with concern as her waves of golden hair fell about her face, concealing her expression from him. He knew she was only in deep thought, but this seemed to worry him more than anything else.

He leaned towards her, "Are you alright, Jaimea?"

"Yes," She answered, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. Legolas's eyes momentarily lingered on the tip of her pointed ears, then he turned his attention back to her eyes when she spoke, "I do not understand you."

"You are not the only one." He laughed, trying to bring cheer back, but he was unsuccessful. He pursed his lips, then came even closer to her so that he was by her side. This time, he was pleasantly surprised when she did not try to move away from him, "I wouldn't want you to understand me, for you would probably end up becoming even more confused. My mind has been a dark place for a while now, and not even I am able to navigate it anymore. There is only thing I want you to know, and that is that I am sorry, and that I still love you."

"But is it really love?" She blurted out unintentionally. Legolas's face paled suddenly at her words, and her voice quaked as she continued, "If something like this is able to get in the way of our relationship, can we really say that what we have is love?"

"We will just have to try harder." He said with desperation, "Yes, there are some things that we still have to sort out together, but our love can prevail. I admit, things have been rough since the beginning, but we always pull through it. I know that we can see the light in this case as well." Tentatively, he reached out to take her hand and grasp it gently, "I know what I feel for you is love, and nothing can ever change that."

The elleth still appeared to be unsure of herself, keeping her eyes on the lush grass. Daring to take one step further, Legolas brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, then turned her head to gaze into her eyes. He found uncertainty there, and he wished for nothing more than to be able to take this away from them. She still showed no discomfort towards him, and so he leaned forward slowly to brush his lips against hers.

When she did not respond to him, discouragement swept through his body. He whispered against her lips, "Please, Jaimea… find it in your heart to forgive me." He kissed her more persistently, yet not so much to anger her, and yet there was still no acknowledgement of the gesture. Frowning in disappointment, the elf separated and sat forward again.

"I'm sorry, Jaimea." He whispered, "I still want- no, I still _need _your love."

The elleth looked towards him finally without expression. He smiled hopefully when she spoke, "You will always have my love, Legolas, and you have my forgiveness." He grinned and was about to say something, but she continued, "But I think we need to think a little more about our relationship. You may say you love me, and I may say I love you, but there is a difference between knowing what love is and knowing what it means to be in love."

"What would you have me do to prove it to you?"

"I ask that you do nothing, other than simply be my friend." She sent him a meaningful glance, "And _only _my friend."

Legolas stared flabbergasted at her, "You mean, you don't want me to love you anymore?"

"Time away from that will help us to perceive our own feelings toward each other, and, if it was meant to be, we will know it."

"You doubt me." He muttered miserably.

"That's not what I said." She said hurriedly, "I simply want to be absolutely sure of this."

There was great disappointment and reluctance in his aura, she could sense, and guilt washed over her for doing this to him. She understood how hard it must have been for him to admit that he was wrong, and now she was throwing it back in his face. It was a hard decision for her to make, as well, but she knew it must be done in order to have a successful courtship. Her mind drifted suddenly back to the Crown Prince's words to her: "One day, I hope I am able to call you my sister, and call your children my nieces and nephews". Smiling, she hoped that his wish would some day be able to come true.

Wanting to assure him, she carefully reached out and touched her fingertips to his cheek. He shot her a glance, giving her a half-hearted smile, "If that is what you wish." He said, unable to hide the sadness in his voice, "But if this is what we must do, can I request one last thing as your lover?"

"Of course."

"May I kiss you?" His tone reminded the elleth of a shy, young elfling, still innocent in his years, and the thought brought a smile to her face. A warm flush rose up her cheeks, giving the prince his answer.

Leaning forward yet again, he met her parted lips with his own, drawing his body closer to hers. Into this kiss, he poured his sorrow, his guilt, and his love for the elleth, wanting to be nearer to her though unable to physically do so. He felt her fingers tangle themselves in his silky, golden hair, and his own fingers mimicked her actions in her own wavy tresses. He pleaded with her for her to part her lips further, and she consented.

In reality, the kiss lasted only moments, though it felt like eternity for the two elves. When they pulled away, the prince rested his forehead against hers, gazing into her dark eyes with his own hazy cerulean orbs. Her heavy breaths brushed alluringly against his lips, and he made to capture her mouth again, but she placed her fingers on his lips to stop him. His eyes begged her to allow one more, and yet she did not allow it. Instead, she unwillingly sat up and willed the heat to recede from her face.

She let her heart beat return to its normal pace before speaking softly, "We are now nothing more than friends." Legolas gave her a sidelong glance, saying nothing, only nodding.

But neither of them were able to find the will to unclasp their hands that rested between them with their fingers tightly woven together.

**XX**

**Yay, positive-ness! Well, sort of. I liked it, at least… yea. Heheh. **

**This chapter was actually based off of one of my recent experiences; at the grad project presentations, no less. One of my friends was trying to get me to talk to this guy that I like, and we ended up getting in a position similar to what Legolas and Eleidan were in: her pushing me from behind, me digging my heels into the ground. Of course, this was in plain view of the dude, so I'm sure he got a kick out of that. And, like Legolas, I eventually lost and ended up talking to him… and I'm very glad I did, too! Yay! But anywho…**

**Oh, and so no one comments, I am aware that 'Eleidan' resembles 'Elladan'. Similar spellings, but completely different meanings. Elladan translates to something like 'elf man', while Eleidan translates literally to 'dream weaver'. And if you can guess, this elf is based off of my friend's personality. Except she is a girl, not a guy…yea. I'll be quiet now.**

**And remember, this author loves reviews!! **

**Until Next Time, **

**Manwathiel **


	6. An Odd Offer

**I return! Woothood! Yea… I don't have anything to say, so I'll just get on to the chapter. Bwahaha!**

**XXXXX**

Chapter 6- An Odd Offer

Unbeknownst to the two elves seated on the lush grass, a pair of dark eyes watched them distantly from the topmost level of the palace. The woman pressed her forehead to the window, sighing softly through her nose. Her long fingers trailed slowly down the glass, creating a slight squealing noise as she did so. Her thoughts wandered back to her past, dwelling on the memories that would always remain just that to her. She knew what it felt to be held like they held each other, blissfully unaware of anything outside their private world, and she longed desperately to feel that way again. She shut her navy blue eyes tightly at this thought, letting her hand fall back to her waist.

She felt a presence come up beside her, but she didn't need to look to know who it was. No word was uttered by her, as if she expected the other to speak if he felt it necessary. The woman sensed him lean back onto his heels, clasping his arms behind his back.

"You have not spoken with him in a long while, Espenshade." The Crown Prince said softly.

She was silent for only a short moment, "He does not deserve to hear my words after how he spoke to me."

"He was frustrated at himself, not at you."

"He should learn to curb his temper." The Muru spat as she pushed herself away from the window and started down the hall. Nórui smiled after her, though did not follow. She continued to speak over her shoulder, "Their relationship is failing, and they cannot do anything to stop it. They do not know how to balance each other's weaknesses and strengths, an essential part of love. If they cannot sort this out, it would have been doomed from the start."

"Are you claiming that you and Daeron never had quarrels?" The elf asked. Espenshade rounded on him quickly with furious eyes, giving no attempt to shield her pain that accompanied that statement.

"He has nothing to do with them." She hissed, "And don't ever say that our love for one another was less than perfect."

Nórui smirked, "I will admit that I still have difficulties with my betrothed. Balance comes with time, and that is something that Jaimea and Legolas have not had much of yet."

"Then that makes them rash and even more likely to fail." She said bitterly. The Crown Prince frowned, but did not comment. He was not entirely sure of what his younger brother had said to the Muru to ruffle her feathers, and he was not sure if he even wanted to know, lest he feel the urge again to give him a nice wallop upside the head. He still had a few aches from that particular encounter.

When he looked back down the hall, he found that the woman had gone. Sighing softly, he took one last glance at the couple on the grass. He was happy that his brother had followed his advice to talk to the elleth, but the words of the Muru were undoubtedly true. The two elves still had a long way to go before their relationship would solidify, and he, too, felt what Espenshade did. In the direction they were going, he wasn't sure they would survive much longer.

Shaking his head in exasperation, the ellon made a note to himself to speak with both of them later. He feared how Legolas would respond to a rejection from the elleth in the future.

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"I see you've returned from your encounter." Eleidan teased, pushing himself away from the wall when he saw the golden haired prince stalking down the hall. Even if the ellon didn't even acknowledge his presence, he still kept the wide grin upon his face. He fell into step beside him as Legolas passed him by, "Well, are you going to tell me what happened?"

"My personal matters are none of your business." He muttered, "If I feel it necessary to inform you of something, I will be sure to do so."

"Come now, don't treat me like this." The darker elf said with mock hurt, "I merely wanted my friend to be happy again, like he used to be."

The prince did not comment again, and Eleidan took the moment to truly examine his friend. Unknown to both elves, he had watched from afar to be sure everything would turn out alright. From his eyes, it seemed that everything had gone smoothly, just as he had hoped, and he decided it safe to leave when he saw the prince lean over to kiss her. Whatever had happened afterwards, he did not know of, and so could find no trace of why the young ellon could still be troubled.

Frowning, he gently grabbed the prince's shoulder to bring him to a halt. As though he had no control over his body, Legolas immediately stopped in his place and let his head hang. Eleidan watched with concern in his eyes as the golden haired elf let out a long sigh.

"Did something happen?" The darker ellon dared to ask, expecting to be shoved away once again. Uncertainty and disappointment flashed across the prince's face, serving only to deepen Eleidan's frown.

"Sort of." He mumbled.

"Care to explain?" The other prompted. He could sense the hesitation radiating off of his friend, but he knew that he would tell him. He could feel that he desired to spill forth his thoughts, though was unsure of how to do so. A long moment passed before Legolas lifted his head again and continued down the hall. He tried to hide the shaking of his voice as he spoke.

"She doesn't love me anymore."

Eleidan gave the prince a dubious look, crossing his arms over his chest and pursing his lips as he followed after him, "I find that hard to believe. Love among our people is not often mistaken."

"Perhaps," Legolas answered gloomily, "But it happens from time to time."

"It is not going to happen with you." The other elf said confidently, "I refuse to let it fail."

"I appreciate your concern, my friend, but it is too late. She has already told me she desires only my friendship now."

An irritated huff issued from the darker ellon, "You give up too easily. It saddens me to see one so strong and proud in such a sullen state." He paused, looking away from the elf, "I feel as though the elf I have grown up with through all these years has been lost somewhere in the wilds of Middle Earth." He glanced back quickly to see the prince watching him with hopelessness in his cerulean eyes. Pity momentarily tugged at his heart, but he quickly shook it off; expressing such an emotion would only make matters worse.

"I can help you." He offered, smiling when he immediately caught Legolas's attention. The prince raised one brow, but Eleidan did not take offense to it.

"How?"

"I'm married, Legolas. If I can convince one elleth to fall madly in love with me, then I can certainly convince another to love you as well."

Eleidan was surprised to hear his friend laugh softly, though it never did reach his eyes. The prince smiled gratefully at the elf, "If you could do that, I would forever be in your debt."

"Are you accepting my offer?"

"Perhaps." He answered, "Let me think on it for a bit." He shrugged his shoulders uneasily, "I find it odd to be seeking help for this sort of matter."

"Odd, it may be, but it is necessary in order to get my old friend back." Eleidan smiled cheerfully, then abruptly turned in the other direction. The prince watched on with a slight chuckle as the ellon raised his hand in farewell, shouting over his shoulder, "I'll see you later, Legolas! My own wife needs me now, I'm sure." A shudder rolled down his spine, "I never knew pregnancy could be so difficult."

Shaking his head in amusement, the fair haired elf smiled until his companion disappeared around a corner, then let his feet continue to carry him forward. His mood had lifted considerably just from his conversation with the exuberant elf, though his encounter with the elleth still gnawed away at the back of his mind. There was still hope, he told himself, but it felt as if his heart had shattered when she spoke those words to him.

His brow wrinkled in thought as he meandered down the hall. She had not told him that she did not love him- quite the contrary, actually- but self-doubt had seemed to permanently settle itself upon his heart, and he could not shake the unwanted feeling. The prince was unsure of what exactly Jaimea was trying to accomplish by doing this, but he did not like it in the least bit. After finally having gathered the courage to apologize, she still pushed him away.

"A taste of my own medicine." He muttered under his breath, absently running his fingers through his hair and giving it a gentle tug, "Now I realize how she must have felt; being pushed away from the one whom you desire most."

Then, a sort of stubbornness tossed away any other feeling that weighed on his mind, effectively taking its frequently occupied spot in his heart. He was not willing to wait for her to make up her mind, he decided, he could not wait. There was no uncertainty in him; he knew that he loved her like he had never loved before. Everything would work out in the end, if only she allowed him one last chance.

But where to begin?

Growling under his breath in annoyance, he put the matter to the back of his mind for the moment. He would think on it in the privacy of his own chambers.

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Iaurtondariel laughed as one of the twins lost his footing in the rushing river after his brother gave a playful shove from behind. He emerged not a moment later, his silver hair clinging to his face, and his face had gone red from either exertion or the frigid cold of the water. The two brothers had intended to only take a quick rest by the river, but they had someone ended up wrestling in the water instead, much to the amusement of their female companions.

One of them- she could no longer tell which was which, thanks to their sopping appearance- shouted something in their own language, though she was unable to translate what was said. She knew that whatever it was, it was said in fun, though she decided it was best not to know due to the faint pink dusting that spread over the cheeks of the Muru sitting beside her. Jocikah shook her with a chuckle, brushing her hair behind her ear in an attempt to occupy her fidgeting hands.

"Iaurtondariel," She started softly, bringing the elf's attention back to her, "I've spoken with Ricamros recently. He tells me that you are uneasy."

The elleth frowned as she pulled her legs up to her chest, "I am a little, yes." She paused, "Though I am hesitant to share the reason behind my unrest. I do not know yet if it is just a feeling, or if there is meaning behind it. I do not wish to cause worry."

"It is better to worry and find that all is well, than to ignore and find you could have helped." The Muru said, her dark eyes glistening with concern, "A lesson I have forgotten many times in the past, which I often now regret."

"But what if there isn't anything? I am afraid that I will cause everyone inconvenience if I act on just a strange feeling."

"Perhaps you can explain to me what is troubling you? And outside opinion often helps to remedy a problem."

There was apprehension in the air as the elleth's brow furrowed in thought, and the silver haired Muru waited patiently for her to begin speaking. Iaurtondariel rested her cheek upon her knees as she spoke, "As soon as I stepped outside of that palace for the last time, this uneasy feeling began to grow within my heart. I could feel it grow with each step I've taken, each beat of Ricamros' mighty wings, as we put even more distance between us and the forest. I do not know what it is, and I fear to find out, but I believe that the troubles of our friends are not yet over."

When the elf looked to the woman again, she saw some hesitation in her eyes. Frowning, she waited for her to answer her unspoken question. Jocikah's voice was unsure as she spoke:

"If it is not too bold of me to ask, does it have anything to do with Prince Nóruion?" Iaurtondariel's brow shot up as the Muru played with the sleeves of her blouse and continued in a hushed whisper, "I know that there was… attraction between you and him."

"How did you know of this?" She asked quietly.

"I saw it when you would speak with each other, though he acted as though he did not acknowledge it. If you are not now, perhaps you were lovers in the past?"

"No, of course not!" The elf exclaimed hastily as a blush rose up on her cheeks, "We were close friends, is all."

Jocikah gave her a sidelong glance before apologizing under her breath.

"But it is not only him that I worry about," Iaurtondariel continued as if nothing had ever been said about that subject, "All of them. I fear something is going to happen to them. All was well when we left, but I can't help feel this foreboding presence in my thoughts."

"You should tell the other two about this, you know." The Muru directed gently, "They would be more than willing to return, just to set your mind at ease."

The elleth idly flicked a small pebble into the rushing river as a thoughtful frown settled upon her lips, "I suppose it would be best."

Not long after this discussion ended, the four travelers soon found themselves soaring through the skies once more, their destination now altered to a different course. They had intended to rest there the remainder of the day, but the two princes were more willing to return than the elf had predicted them to be, though she scolded herself later for the thought. They were all friends, and were ready to be there for one another if it was necessary.

**XX**

**Ah, I am so sorry for taking so long to update this time around. After I finished my graduation project, I had just no desire to write anymore. No matter what I did, I just couldn't sit down and write. My creative juices had been sucked dry, and my lovely brain children had been beaten down by the others. It made me so sad, to know that I couldn't think of them anymore. :( Even now, this chapter was forced out of me. Hence the… lack of satisfaction that you are all probably facing. Sorry. **

**I'll recover eventually, but until that time, just try to be patient, alright? I'm really sorry. I promise the next chapter to be better. **

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel **


	7. Red Wine

**I return after yet another long absence. Many apologies. Hopefully, you guys can stick it out with me. :) **

**XXXXX**

Chapter 7- Red Wine

"Legolas, aren't you going to eat?" Thranduil asked from across the table, watching his son curiously as the prince pushed his food around his plate with a fork. The young elf didn't bother glancing up, only letting out a heavy sigh. The king frowned, "What's wrong?"

"He's depressed, Ada." Nórui teased as he flicked the cherries covering his pastry off with one finger,, watching with a satisfied smile as one rolled across the clean tablecloth and tapped the edge of Melyanna's plate, leaving a trail of red juice in its wake.

"And your behavior is that of an elfling," The king scolded, gazing at his son disapprovingly, "I hope you have a good idea of how to remove that stain right after breakfast."

Nórui opened his mouth to protest, but Thranduil sent him a glare, then turned his attention back to Legolas. The Crown Prince grumbled under his breath, then set about the task of picking up the tart without getting any of the sweet syrup on his fingers. He heard his two sisters snickering under their breath.

"I'm fine, Adar, just thinking." Legolas stated suddenly, as if he had only just heard his father's earlier question, but the Elvenking gave him a dubious look. Clearing his throat softly, the ellon set his silver utensils down on his plate, then twined his fingers together on the table. The prince hesitated in his chewing, sensing that his father was about to give him a rather long lecture, but pretended he didn't notice.

"Legolas," He started in a voice that seemed to scream authority, "I've known you since you were a mere babe, small enough to hold in the crook of my arm. I believe I am able to spot a lie." When the youngest prince looked up with a scowl, Thranduil couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction.

"And besides," Lothron cut in, "Ever since we returned home, you've been sulking and snapping at everyone every chance you had. Now, you're just sulking."

The golden haired elf stabbed more violently at his pastry than was necessary, "Nothing's wrong."

Thranduil sighed heavily, propping his elbow on the table. He ran his hand over his face, peering at his son from between his fingers, "Why must you be so stubborn and refuse help?" At this, a smirk of his own flitted upon Legolas's lips.

"Oh, I'm not. I am receiving help even as we speak."

The family glanced among each other with curious gazes, but always returned to rest upon the young prince who had resumed eating his breakfast. For some odd reason, he found satisfaction in knowing the confusion he had caused them.

Just as he had said, Legolas did indeed have assistance at that very moment, and it was currently strolling leisurely down a long corridor that would eventually wind its way to the chambers of a particular elleth. His aid was, in fact, Eleidan, the elf who had previously offered his 'services' to the prince. The night before, the young prince had found his friend again and accepted his offer, and so the other elf was quick to concoct some plans. He had refused to tell his friend what he had devised, much to Legolas's chagrin, but it also excited the prince. He was always one for a few surprises here and there.

Humming a tune under his breath, the dark haired ellon turned a corner, his hands clasped behind his back. He would smile politely at the occasional lord or lady that he passed by, though did not stop to talk even if he was prompted to. He was determined not to let his comrade down. Eru knows that his wife would pitch a fit when she found out he snuck away again, but he decided that this was worth the trouble.

After a good ten minutes of walking, he finally came to the desired chambers, then rapped lightly upon the door with his knuckles. He waited patiently for its occupant to greet him as he bounced on the balls of his feet, his light eyes gazing around almost curiously, as if he had never seen this hall before. When the door cracked open to reveal a surprised elleth, he mustered the most pleasant smile he could come up with.

"Good morning, my lady." He greeted as he bent at the waist in a slight bow, "I hope that I'm not disrupting you." The ellon took in the sight of her disheveled hair and smirked, "Though it appears that I am."

She hurriedly ran her fingers through her wavy tresses as if that would hide that she had only recently awoken, "Oh, no, it is alright," She said with a smile, though Eleidan imagined that it was forced, "Is there something I may help you with?"

The elf asked, "You are Lady Jaimea, correct?" At her affirmative nod, he continued, "My name is Eleidan, and I was hoping that you might grace me with your presence for but a little while."

Even if she had not intended to do it, Jaimea's head tilted to the side in confusion and a frown creased her brow. She had never met this elf, and yet he was asking her to walk with him? She subconsciously tightened her grip on the wooden door. She took a tentative step back, mumbling under her breath, "Well…"

"I assure you, my lady Jaimea, my intentions are honorable." He said and grinned brightly, though it seemed to only worry the elleth even more. However, her stature seemed to relax ever so slightly. Even if this ellon was odd, his exuberance was peculiarly charming, she thought to herself. So, throwing her caution to the wind, she smiled and nodded.

"Of course, my lord. Just give me a moment to prepare myself."

"Certainly." He chirruped as he went back to bouncing on the balls of his feet. Eleidan could have sworn he heard her chuckle before shutting the door softly behind her.

As he stood before the door, humming softly to himself, he halfheartedly began to ponder over what he would do once she joined him. It was well known that he was a spontaneous elf, preferring to act upon impulse, but he believed it to be the best quality of himself. After all, what was the point of living if there weren't a few surprises every once in a while?

The ellon, having soon lost interest in formulating his plan, was about to go examine a wilting, potted plant down the corridor before the door to the elleth's room opened. He twirled around on one foot to greet the emerging elf and plastered a large grin on his face, ignoring the dark locks of hair that now fell wildly about his head. Glancing up and down at her, Eleidan's grin transformed into a small smirk; it had just become apparent to him why his friend seemed to be so in love with her.

"You certainly clean up well." He commented, extending his arm for her. A pink dusting grew over Jaimea's cheeks, and she muttered a 'thank you' under her breath, unsure whether to take that as a compliment or not. He seemed to sense her uncertainty, so he offered her an assuring smile, idly brushing the errant strands of hair from his face.

"I thought a nice stroll in the gardens would be nice," He began once she had tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and they started down the hall, "Already winter is trying to push its way in, so the flowers will only be in bloom so much longer."

Jaimea nodded her agreement, though she still had a small amount of confusion left. The ellon had yet to give her his purpose for singling her out when there was surely someone better to walk with. Judging by his apparent age, he must have at least been betrothed by now.

"Pardon me," She said softly once he had finished rambling, "I don't mean to be rude, but what exactly do you want of me? I do not recall ever meeting you before today."

Eleidan smiled. He had wondered when she would finally ask that, "I wish to discuss something with you." He answered simply.

"Care to elaborate?" Jaimea asked, raising one brow questioningly. When his smile once again transformed into a smirk, the elleth began to doubt her choice to accept his offer.

"I'll tell you all you wish to know once we arrive at our destination." Upon seeing the wary look in her eyes, he added, "Trust me."

Half way along the way to the gardens, Jaimea concluded that her 'companion' must have changed his mind, for they had not gone to there as was originally intended, but to a usually deserted corner of the library. The elleth gazed around curiously as he led her to a pair of small couches, guiding her to sit in one while he sat in the other. Compared to other sections of the large library, this one seemed much older and less welcoming. The fireplace did not quite reach that side, and the air was thick. Were it not for the thin layer of dust upon the chairs, she would have thought them to be brand new due to their hardness.

The chair squeaked as Eleidan shifted himself to a more comfortable position, then he turned his attention to the elleth. She attempted to smile at him, and he returned it.

"So," He began immediately, "I've a matter to discuss with you."

"Yes?" She prompted, and was answered with only one word:

"Legolas."

The elleth's heart raced unbidden at the mention of the prince and she could feel her skin prickling. She hoped that the dimly lit library would hide her mounting blush, though his slow grin showed that he had not missed it.

"What about him?" She asked, wincing when her voice cracked ever so slightly.

Just as he was spontaneous, Eleidan was also never one to beat around the bush. Even as an elfling, he had the tendency to speak up front about what ever it was he wanted, giving no thought to any question or idea. This case would be no different.

"He speaks about you all the time, you know. He has told me that you are the best thing that has ever happened to him, and he wishes that you would forsake what you said to him the other day."

Jaimea gave him a suspicious look, "What do you mean? And why are you telling me this?"

"Legolas is a good friend of mine, and I only wish to see him happy. So I ask that you please reconsider what you said to him; accept him as your lover again so that-"

"_This_ is what you brought me here for?" She said harshly, causing Eleidan to halt in mid-sentence. He stuttered for a moment, but the elleth did not let him continue, "What goes on between Legolas and I is strictly his and my own business- you have no right to delve into my private affairs!"

"But my lady, please, if you would but listen-"

"No, I will not listen to you!" She shouted, rising from her chair with a glare on her face, "Did Legolas tell you to do this?"

Eleidan hesitated, "Well, he did say he would like help."

"Then that makes him immature and selfish! I told him that I wanted time to sort out my feelings, and I expected him to respect my wishes! By sending a _messenger boy_ to deliver his words, I believe it has only earned him more time to wait for my decision!"

"My lady-" He was cut off yet again.

"I will not hear a word of it!" She started to storm off, but paused in her steps to glare over her shoulder at the shocked ellon, "And if you insist on being the pigeon between us, then I have a message for you to send as well: next time if he wants to talk to me, come to me himself!"

Eleidan could have sworn he saw a single tear trail down her cheek before she whipped her head around and stormed out of the library, slamming the doors behind her. The ellon chewed on his fingernail anxiously as he stared at the place Jaimea just was; this message was not one that he looked forward to delivering.

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The day continued as usual in the Mirkwood palace, elves bustling to and fro through the corridors. A few still had not caught up on everything that had been missed, most having been just recently released from their long sleeps. Those with less fortune than others, the ones that had not lasted through the spell, had long since been given their proper burials. The loss, though very small, still struck hard at the hearts of the elves; it had been many long years since any elf from the Woodland Realm passed into the Halls of Mandos.

But despite this, grieving families slowly pulled themselves together and continued on with their lives as usual. Control was once again in the hands of the king.

Thranduil, having finally finished his duties for the moment, leaned back into his velvet chair by the grand fireplace, a glass goblet held loosely in his fingers. He watched the crimson colored liquid swirl around in the cup, then took a quick sip of the drink. It seemed to tingle as it trailed down his throat, emitting from him a sigh of comfort. Being king had its advantages, but some days seemed to exist only to add more stress to his life.

The ellon found relief in the fact that for this day, he was finished all that needed doing. It was already late afternoon, so he was content just to rest in his private chambers and reminisce over all that had passed in the last few months. But he did not wander long on this topic, finding it still too near to ponder on too heavily.

He made to take another sip from his goblet, but a swift rapping on the door startled him so that the drink nearly slipped from his fingers. Growling in agitation, Thranduil shifted into a more comfortable position, expecting that what ever the visitor needed would require him to become active again. He wanted to enjoy the remainder of his peace.

"Enter." He called. The grand doors swung open just wide enough for one guard to enter. Thranduil watched him expectantly as the dark haired elf bent at the waist, sweeping one hand over his heart.

"My king," He started in a deep voice, "One of the maids wishes to speak with you for a moment. Her name is Tirieth."

"What is her purpose?"

"She would not say, my lord, only that it was urgent that you hear it."

The king's eyes narrowed, though more out of curiosity than suspicion, "Show her to me."

The guard bowed again and disappeared momentarily behind the door. When he returned, a young elleth with fair hair came before him, her eyes fixated upon the plush carpet as if that was the most interesting thing in the room. Thranduil could see that she was still young, even by elven standards, and he attempted to relax himself in her presence.

"What news do you bring me, Lady Tirieth?" He asked, swirling the red liquid in his cup again.

Tirieth looked up at him suddenly, and the ellon could see the hesitation in her eyes. Her body trembled, and her fingers twitched anxiously at her sides. As if to prolong the words she must speak, she bent low to him in a bow.

"My king," Her voice was soft, and it reminded Thranduil startlingly of his own late wife's tone, "I… I bring you news concerning the lady that the prince has chosen."

"Which one?" The ellon asked with a good-natured chuckle. He brought the goblet to his lips for another drink.

"Le- I mean, Prince Legolas, my lord."

"Oh?" Thranduil leaned forward in his chair, showing particular interest in what she had to say. The king knew that his son's distress had stemmed somehow from his recent lack of communication with the elleth, so he was more than happy to listen to what may be the cause of it. And he had thought that his daughters were but labyrinths of mind games!

"Yes, I should have told you long ago, but I was struggling within myself." There was a, anxious look on her face, and the Elvenking frowned.

"What is it?"

Tirieth visibly hesitated, wondering once more if what she was about to do was the right thing. When she spoke, she shut her eyes as though doing so would lessen the guilt she was sure to feel, "The day when the Crown Prince and his brother fought in the corridor, I overheard Prince Nóruion speaking with Lady Jaimea in his chambers."

As the elleth recounted all that she heard, Thranduil found each word that passed from her lips to be more painful than he had thought possible. A sick feeling settled itself in his stomach, the feeling one gets if a step is accidentally missed when going downstairs. His dark eyes watched her lips move, and yet it seemed that the words were muted. He could not will himself to believe that he had willingly housed that…

The goblet fell from his hands and shattered upon the floor, sending shards of glass and crimson liquid across the carpet. With nothing but a hateful glare on his stern features, Thranduil stood from him seat and stormed out of the chamber; all thoughts of a peaceful day had vanished from his mind.

But what he did not notice was the satisfied smirk upon the elleth's lips. When the door slammed shut, Tirieth glanced over her shoulder to see the guard still in his place, watching her expectantly. Immediately, a shaky smile replaced the leer, and then she hurried over to the stain on the carpet where the wine had fallen, bending down as if to clean it with her own robes.

"My lady," The guard called, and she could hear his feet shuffling on the floor, "Come, someone else will take care of that."

"O-Of course," She muttered, almost flinching when she felt him delicately place his hand upon her shoulder.

"You did the right thing, Tirieth. You know that, right?"

"Yes," She breathed, touching the red stain with the tips of her fingers. The carpet was saturated, and when she looked at her fingers again, there were small droplets of the liquid upon them, "Yes, I know I did."

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Iaurtondariel watched her Muruien companions with a smile on her face as they stared in childish wonder at the white powder gently falling down from the sky. It was already accumulating on the ground, just covering her booted feet, and it appeared that it had no intentions of stopping any time soon. The elleth held out a palm, catching the large snowflakes; some had even become the same size as her hand. There was fascination in her eyes as the flake slowly melted, leaving a small puddle where it once was.

They would be cold later, she thought absently to herself. Not so much her as the others, due to her small amount of elven blood, but the high elevation of the mountains would not help matters much. It was at the twins' insistence that they stop when they saw the snow falling from the sky. According to them, they had never experienced this sort of thing in their forest home, so it was completely new.

"Should we risk a fire tonight?" The elleth hated to bring them back to reality, but there were more pressing matters at hand other than trying to catch the largest snowflake, "Foul creatures live in these mountains, I've heard."

"We must," Tarmikos said, "It is already cold, so I do not care to imagine how much colder it will get once the sun disappears on the other side of the mountain."

"We'll just have to be extra alert on watches." Ricamros finished for him.

"As long as you know what you're doing." Iaurtondariel muttered, turning away from them. She attempted to kick away the snow to find a dry place to sit down, but the hole continuously filled back up with the white powder.

"Of course," The older twin said, grinning, "We wouldn't let anything happen to our beautiful ladies."

It was not long before the sun had finally left them in the shadows, and the small group of four huddled together as the temperature seemed to plummet by the minute. The thin blankets had not sufficed, so they were forced to rely on one another's body heat instead. By the time they had gotten comfortable and had created a small flicker of a fire, snow had reached up to their knees, and they were feeling the effects of wet clothing. But despite this, both Jocikah and Tarmikos had managed to drift off to sleep, having found comfort in one another's arms. This left Ricamros and Iaurtondariel to sit side by side, both pairs of eyes gazing unwaveringly into the cold darkness. Huddled within one thin blanket, the prince made sure never to let go of the elleth's hand.

A sudden violent shiver shot down his spine, causing the elf to glance up at him quickly. Short, successive clouds of breath came from his trembling lips, and Iaurtondariel frowned.

"You are cold." She whispered, fearing that speaking any louder would bring unwanted attention, and he nodded once. Without a thought, she drew herself closer to him, then took his hands in hers. She brought them to her mouth, blowing into them, then rubbing them between her own with quick yet gentle strokes. His navy blue eyes staring intently at her brought a blush to her cheeks, but it was hidden by the redness the cold had created.

"I wish we had this back home," He thought aloud, looking up into the dark sky, "It blankets this barren land and makes it beautiful," He glanced down to the elleth who had stopped warming his hands to gaze up at him, then smiled, "But it doesn't compare to the one who sits beside me."

"I hope you are not speaking of your brother." The elleth teased, a playful grin upon her lips, but the prince only frowned.

"I try to pay you a compliment, but you treat it as a mere joke." He muttered dejectedly, "Do you not believe what I tell you?"

Iaurtondariel opened her mouth quickly, but rethought for a long moment. When she looked up at him again, she noticed that the snow seemed to reflect in his eyes and they shimmered brilliantly at her, "It is you who should receive such a compliment." She smile again, but he did not return it. Sighing softly, the elf looked down to her wet feet, "I suppose I'm not used to receiving such kind words as yours."

Finally, Ricamros smiled, "Then you should get used to it, for that is all you shall hear pass from my lips."

"Perhaps we need to start now then." She suggested with a coy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The Muru did not say anything at first, but averted his eyes to the high heavens. He sat in silence for only a few moments before speaking again,

"You see the stars up there? They shimmer brilliantly against the black sky, gazing down upon us and giving us hope in dark times. But your beauty outshines even the brightest star, for only a mere glance in my direction sends my heart soaring among those stars. And this snow only reflects your gentleness and love. Like the snow, you bring joy to all who look upon you without even intending to, and you do not need anything in return for all that you give. You are just happy to be there when another needs comfort," Ricamros shifted his eyes once again to the elf gazing at him, glancing down quickly at her lips, then back up to her eyes, "You are beautiful in mind, heart, and body, Iaurtondariel. And for that, I will love you unto the ending of days."

The elleth searched his eyes as his hand caressed her cheek gently, and she placed her own over top of his. She thought she could feel tears brimming at the corners of her eyes, but the matter swiftly slipped from her mind when he captured her lips with his own with such a loving tenderness that she was sure she had never reached this height of happiness before. There was no doubt in her heart that the prince meant everything he had just said, and, if it was possible, she felt her heartbeat escalate even more.

It seemed like ages had flown by before he released her, pulling away so little that they could still feel one another's breath upon their lips. Iaurtondariel looked up with hazy eyes to see him, his cheeks flushed from heat now instead of cold. When she looked back down again, she couldn't help but notice how tantalizingly close his mouth still was to hers. As if he had guessed her thoughts, he couldn't restrain himself from taking her lips again, wrapping his arms around her body to pull her flush against his own.

Had they been aware of their observers, they may have stopped immediately and snapped to attention. But it took longer than it should have to notice the ragged breathing in the darkness, and the flashes of reflecting eyes peering from outside the small camp. It was a the crunching snow under heavy feet that brought them back to reality, and when they looked up, they were met with a pair of bared teeth and hot, rancid breath blowing on their faces.

**XXXXX**

**What's that? It's been a month since I've updated? Well, imagine that. **

**Blame Namco for creating such awesome RPG's. **

**My childhood dream was to have my first kiss in the snow. A lot of people, I've found, want it in the rain. But that's just too wet if you ask me. /end random.**

**But I come to thee bearing good news! My muses have returned! Yes, I have actually thought of a way to keep the story going! Huzzah! Well, I won't keep you any longer. Besides, I fought the urges to watch Fushigi Yuugi just so I could finish this chapter! Yay! So, ta-ta for now::runs off to watch her anime:: **


	8. Nature's Deception

**Okay, it's February 3rd. My internet is busted, so I have nothing else to do other than write. So, write I shall. X3 **

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Chapter 8- Nature's Deception

The drumming of the young prince's fingers on the arm of the chair seemed to echo more loudly than it naturally should have. His face was the picture of calm and peace, but one could see the fire that blazed in his cerulean eyes as he glared heatedly at the ellon who cowered before him. If he had ever shown the same temperament of his father, the king, this was that moment.

Eleidan squirmed were he stood, glancing around quickly in an attempt to find something else that would be more captivating, though he was failing miserably. He wondered if Legolas had purposely moved everything interesting out of the room so that there would be no way for him to change the conversation if things didn't work out as he wanted. If that was indeed what he intended, he had succeeded.

"Legolas…" The dark haired ellon drawled, tugging restlessly at the sleeves of his tunic so that he could grasp the hems between his fingers; a nasty habit that he had never been able to drop since he was an elfling. But his words seemed to end here, for he found himself suddenly tongue tied, "Legolas, I…" He tried again, though found no way to continue.

"Eleidan," The young prince started coldly, and the other ellon winced; he had not heard his friend's voice that harsh in years. There was a tense silence for a long moment so that Eleidan wondered if the golden haired elf would even bother to continue his sentence. Though he was most surprised to see him suddenly slump down into the chair with a heavy sigh, then said, "It's not your fault."

The darker elf's jaw fell slack, but he quickly snapped it shut when he saw the warning glance his friend shot him. He wasn't sure what caused this sudden change in disposition, but he certainly felt much more confident now.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I told you to talk to her, so it's my fault. I should have known she would have reacted this way." The prince answered, picking at the threads on the chair.

"Well," Eleidan mumbled as he crossed the room a little ways to sit upon the edge of a desk, "I gave you the idea."

Legolas did not bother to shift so that he may have a better view of the ellon, "I just hope she can forgive me."

"She has managed to every other time." The other said with a laugh. He grinned when he saw his friend crack a smile.

"I know." The prince said to himself after a moment, "And that is one of the many reasons I love her." Again, Eleidan grinned softly; his friend may not have intended him to hear that, so he would remain silent on the matter.

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Jaimea glared at her reflection in the mirror, her brow creased and lips pouting, though her mind wandering elsewhere. She knew that the decision she came to would not sit well with the prince, but she had never expected him to send someone else to do a job that was his and his alone. His behavior appalled her, reminding her distinctly of how she and her other _female_ companions used to be when they were only elflings; giggling and admiring from afar the young ellon of their dreams, sending secret messages to him but never revealing themselves. The similarities between the two were shocking.

With a light growl under her breath, the elleth snatched up a wooden handled brush and began to stroke roughly through her golden hair. A tear sprang to her eye when the fine bristles caught a snag, but she forced it through and continued brushing.

The door opened slowly with a slight creak, but the elf didn't bother to look at her visitor; she just hoped that it wasn't _him_. She glanced away from her reflection for a brief moment to see the oldest princess softly shutting the door behind her. There was a gentle smile on her lips as she approached, but Jaimea did not return it, instead returning to glaring at the mirror.

Lothron said nothing as she came up behind the elleth, but stilled Jaimea's hand and took the brush from her, setting it down on the table. The princess watched the elleth's eyes carefully.

"It has been a long while since I have seen you smile." She said slowly, "Does life in the palace displease you this much?"

"Life here does not bother me, just one person living in it." Jaimea answered bitterly, standing rapidly from her seat and striding over to sit on the edge of her bed. The Komuned lay there, and it stretched, purring in its throat, when the elleth stroked its fur. Lothron did not follow her, but turned to face her.

"My brother is still young, Jaimea, as are you. There are many things that he does not yet understand about the ways of us ellith."

The elf on the bed huffed, "I always believed it common sense that if you have something to discuss with the one you are courting, you take it up with them personally; not send another to do it for you." The Komuned hissed when Jaimea began to stroke its fur in the wrong direction, sending it scampering off the bed to lie on the floor. Frowning, Lothron came towards the other and sat down beside her.

"Do not lose hope with Legolas; he knows that he loves you, and wishes that you would see that. He simply does not know how to show it, and so sometimes expresses it in the wrong way." Jaimea shot her a dubious glance, but the princess shook it off, "He becomes angry with you because he wants to protect you."

"That makes absolutely no sense." The elleth retorted, earning herself an amused smile from Lothron.

"Perhaps not, but our Adar was the same way; the anger that my brother expresses is not out of hate, but the desperate wish that you would understand why he tells you to do something or not to do something."

"I fail to see how this has anything to do with what is happening now. He is the one to blame for getting so upset over something that has no meaning."

Lothron furrowed her brow, "What was it?"

With a sharp gasp, Jaimea quickly shook her head, "Nothing, it was nothing." She answered hastily, though did not miss the curious glance from the princess. But Lothron said nothing more on the matter, much to the other elleth's relief. Instead, she folded her hands in her lap and continued with the previous conversation.

"I cannot tell you what to do, Jaimea, nor can I entirely decipher what is going through Legolas's mind; and frankly, I think that would be a dangerous thing to do anyway." She added with a light chuckle, "But I do ask that you at least try to understand why he behaves the way he does. I know that he has been wounded by what just happened with Eleidan- yes, I heard about that- and so he will likely not approach you any time soon. You must be the one to go him."

Jaimea did not speak, though the elf could see that she didn't like her suggestion.

"You don't have to right at this moment," Lothron tried to amend, "When you are ready. But until that time, how about you and I spend some time together?" She smiled, standing up and motioning for Jaimea to follow, "We haven't had much of that lately."

As the golden haired elf followed the princess out of her chambers, the Komuned leaping up and trotting after them, a torrent of emotions swept through her mind. She understood what Lothron had told her, and yet did not understand; if figuring ellith out were difficult, then figuring ellyn was near impossible.

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With snow comes the visions of beauty and happiness. The sight of fresh snow falling from the midnight blue sky can, in some cases, instill wonder into the hearts of both young and old. It symbolizes the purity and hope of the earth, and the cleansing of all things.

But snow can also bring death, can show the signs of age and ending. It can freeze the hearts of all who are unfortunate enough, and steal the hope of life. The beauty of snow is but a mask of the pain that is reflected in the earth and all of its living beings. All too often are people deceived by this fake magnificence, this false idea of safety.

That night, the crisp snow was stained red, having succeeded once more in capturing the eyes of the travelers. Ashes were strewn about the area, and footprints both large and small dotted the snow. A torn blanket billowed in the wind, one corner pinned underneath a fallen rock, and a large, still body had been partially covered by the white powder. There were no traces of life, except a lone raven cawing loudly from a precipice.

Flashes of color exploded before the elleth's eyes and there was a painful hammering on the left side of her head. Something was restricting her from moving and as she continued to try to free herself, she grew more frantic. She opened her mouth to shout, but it was filled with a pile of snow. Hurriedly, she tried to spit it out when she tasted the bittersweet, metallic taste of blood.

A crunching sound came from what seemed to be above her, but she could no longer discern the difference between up and down. Someone called her name, but she could not respond. Instead, she began to thrash desperately again until the weight was rapidly being taken off of her body. Within a moment, something brushed against her, then firmly grasped her waist and hoisted her from her frozen prison.

"Iaurtondariel?" The feminine voice whispered hoarsely, and the elleth struggled to open her eyes. She blearily looked upon the face of her rescuer, but images of the night before flashed in front of her; kissing Ricamros, shaggy wargs leaping into their camp, attacking the defenseless companions.

The elf clenched her eyes tight to block at the memories, but they continued to flood back to her; the group had scrambled to pick up their weapons and fight back, but the beasts had overwhelmed them. They had been backed to the edge of the cliff they rested upon, backed until there was no where else to go…

"Where are the others?" Iaurtondariel asked worriedly, forcing herself to open her eyes again. Jocikah hovered over her, a deep gash running down her cheek, over her lips and chin. The elleth winced at the sight of it; no doubt that would leave a scar.

"I.. don't know." The Muru trembled as she said this, her eyes watering. Groaning, Iaurtondariel sat up, only to fall back down when the pain thundered at her temple again. Touching the area tenderly with her fingers, she was not surprised to find blood there. Jocikah placed her hand on the other's shoulder, telling her to stay down.

"We need to find them." The elf said, but the Muru didn't respond, "They may be injured."

"Iaurtondariel," Jocikah's voice s though she was trying to keep back a flood of tears, "I don't think we can help them."

A sick feeling settled itself in the elf's stomach, but she continued anyway, "We will find them. They can't have gone far."

This time, the Muru did not try to hold back the tears. She gave a shuddering breath that seemed to catch in her throat, "They're not here, Iaurtondariel."

"Don't say that." She retorted quickly as her own panic rose up in her heart, "You don't know that."

"Please…" There was desperation in Jocikah's voice as she spoke which only added to the elleth's own fear. Perhaps it was her own imagination, but Iaurtondariel believed that she saw blood mixed in with the Muru's tears, "We need to leave this place; they're not coming back."

"You don't know that!" The elf shouted, resisting the urge to slap her companion. Ignoring the pain in her temple, she struggled to her feet, but succeeded only in rising to her knees before she was out of breath, "They are still here." She whispered between pants. She sat there only for a few moments before finally coming to her feet, albeit shakily.

"Please, don't go!" Jocikah shouted as the elleth started off, "You will not find them!"

"If you don't want to come, then stay here! But I'm-"

"They fell, Iaurtondariel! They fell, and they're not coming back!"

The Muru crumbled into tears, her whole body shaking violently as she sobbed loudly, but Iaurtondariel did not move. Her bright eyes only gazed straight ahead, disbelief and grief flashing through them. Her dry lips parted to speak, though her voice was barely a whisper on the wind, "No… no, they were right behind us…"

As the elf's face began to tremble from the oncoming tears, she fought to remember what had happened that past night. The wargs had cornered them to the edge of the cliff, then pounced. She remembered falling, screaming until she lost her voice, and then slamming onto the icy ground and sliding until she hit a rock. She had struggled to hold onto consciousness, then noticed both princes were scrambling to pull themselves on to a small ledge jutting out from the side of the cliff. She had thought them safe, and so allowed herself to drift away; whatever happened afterwards was not in her memory.

"I was on the same ledge you were," Jocikah spoke suddenly, catching Iaurtondariel's attention, "But you had already lost consciousness by the time I landed there. Ricamros and Tarmikos climbed up onto a small precipice, but Ricamros had injured himself in the fall. We were speaking for only a few minutes before one of the wargs appeared above them; I still do now know how it got there. I warned them, but it had already leapt down upon them.

"It was horrible, watching them fight this creature while I could do nothing to help them. They had nearly fallen off, but they were able to shove it over the side."

Jocikah paused in her telling of the story as she attempted to regain control of her sobbing; Iaurtondariel, however, had already gone numb. Though she had not said it, she knew what would happen next.

"B-But then the rock they stood upon began to crumble, made weak from the fight. There was no where for them to go…" Jocikah could not continue as another wave of tears overcame her.

"But down." Iaurtondariel breathed as terror mounted her heart and mind. A dizzy feeling made her legs weak, and she collapsed back to the ground where the cold snow bit at her dry hands. Her knotted hair fell before her face, creating a curtain between her eyes and the Muru's. But a part of her refused to believe it, unwilling to accept what had happened. And if it did happen, she knew that they were still alive; both of them were. She refused to give up hope on them; she would find them, just like they were both trying to find them.

"Get up." She said with such a demanding tone tha urprised the other woman. Slowly, she picked herself up again and, without looking back, started searching for a way down.

"But Iaurton-"

"I said, get up!" The elleth shouted, whirling around to face the Muru with determined eyes.

"But…"

"If you don't want to come, then fine." Iaurtondariel said as she started climbing down the opposite side of the ledge, "But I know that they are here somewhere, and both are alive." Just before she disappeared, she added, "I refuse to give up hope."

Jocikah then sat alone in silence except for the occasional clattering of a stone. It took only a moment for her to make up her mind; without a word, she leapt to her feet and hurried to the edge the elleth had just climbed down from.

**XX**

**I'm listening to the Gladiator soundtrack right now, and it is so pretty! Especially 'Now We Are Free'; it gave me lots of little ideas. But not this one, I've had this one. It's the idea that my returned muses gave me the other day. Those evil little monkeys. **

**Oh! I'm so happy! I got Zelda: Twilight Princess the other day! Yaaay! It's so fun, but those creepy little monkeys need to die! Rawr! Ehem, anyways… I had a different idea for this chapter, but I decided not to do it. Considering the fact that it would have made me cry a river and may have ticked a few of you off, I didn't. It was to have Iaurtondariel and Jocikah find Tarmikos buried in the snow, dead… but my little heart couldn't handle it. **

**Tarmikos: Good thing, you crazy woman!**

**Authoress: Get back in your cage, you monkey! beat **

**Yea… okay, this author's 'note' (more like story) is already too long, so I'll leave you guys alone. But I do want to thank every one of you for being so awesome- I'm entirely surprised how many reviews I've gotten already, compared to how LIMM was. So, thank you very much! **

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel **


	9. Whisper Back to Me

**What is it with my internet breaking?! I hate technology! ARG! **

**Yea… I managed to pry myself from Zelda: Twilight Princess to get this chapter out. ::stares longingly at the GameCube:: I'll be back, my precious!**

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Chapter 9-Whisper Back to Me

Grumbling in annoyance, a tall, dark haired ellon attempted to scrape up the parchments that had been knocked out of his arms by an overly playful feline. He had been minding his own business, on his way to deliver said parchments to the king, when that creature brought from some foreign land that he didn't know the name of came stalking around the corner and pounced upon him. He had expected his life to be over, waiting for the killing blow, but all he felt was a rough tongue licking at his face. Following that was a stream of giggles from around the same corner, then the appearance of the oldest princess and one elleth that he recognized as the prince's lover, but unsure of her name.

Once the creature had been called off, the ellith struck up a quick conversation with him, but he was too frustrated to actually listen. They soon departed, leaving him to clean up the mess.

A string of curses issued from his lips as he snatched up the last piece and, tucking the stack under his arm, continued on his way up to the king's chambers; he made a mental note to request the removal of that Komu- what ever it was.

Fortunately for him, he did not need to go all the way, for the king had come to him. Unfortunately, he did not seem in the best of moods, judging by the fact that he was grinding his teeth and his face had gone an unnatural shade of red. But still, the ellon had his duties, and so had every intention of fulfilling them.

"My lord," He started cautiously, "I've brought the-"

"Not now, Tandhir." Thranduil growled as he stormed past the elf, causing his maroon-colored robes to billow at his feet. However, Tandhir was adamant: he would deliver this papers, even if it was the last thing he did.

"But Thranduil," He started again, but he was cut off once more.

"I'm busy right now; I need to find Jaimea."

"Oh, you mean Prince Legolas' lady friend?" Tandhir asked, casually glancing over at the ellon. At one, the king snapped to attention and whirled around, staring demandingly at the elf.

"You know where she is?" He asked. Smirking, the other ellon examined his fingernails on his free hand.

"Perhaps."

"I'm in no mood for your games, Tandhir! Now, tell me where she is!" Thranduil bellowed, nearly causing the other to lose his grip on the stack of parchments. Glaring, Tandhir dropped his hand and tilted his chin in the air.

"She and the Crown Princess passed here earlier and told me that they were visiting the gardens before the first frost hit." He answered, but was left to stare blankly where the king once stood; he had left without even uttering a thank you. Tandhir scowled; he had never liked the king too much anyway.

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The golden falcon cackled from her perch on the windowsill, gazing out over the expansive forest. She could hear the elf behind her moving restlessly on the bed, letting out a heavy sigh every thirty seconds. The whole situation had begun to grate on her nerves, ever since it had started near an hour ago. It surprised her that she was able to tolerate it that long.

Another sigh.

Ruffling her feathers and hissing softly, the falcon waddled around and dropped to the floor. A bright light engulfed her small form, then quickly disappeared to reveal a tall woman with fair tresses and smoldering blue eyes.

"Legolas," She started tensely, "If you do not stop mopping around your chambers and go down to her, I believe it will be necessary for me to take matters into my own hands."

The young prince opened his eyes and looked up at the Muru, a small frown marring his lips. Much to her irritation, he sighed again and buried his face in his folded arms, "You do not understand." He muttered.

"I understand very well: you are too much of a coward to fix your mistakes!" She exclaimed.

There was silence for a long moment, in which the woman thought Legolas had simply chosen to ignore her. Growling, she made to shout at him again, but the prince suddenly spoke.

"Why are you suddenly talking to me, Espenshade?" He asked softly, a question that caught her off guard. The Muru stared at him curiously for a moment before he continued, "Before, you would change into a falcon whenever I came near. Now, you come to me, unbidden." Another silence reigned, but was broken by an aggravated huff.

"I believe I had every right to be angry with you, and I still do." She saw him flinch, but she ignored his discomfort, "After what you said to me, I should not ever forgive you." Then, her eyes softened and she allowed her body to relax. Slowly, she moved to him and sat beside him on the bed, placing a hand upon his back, "But you are still my friend, and I do not wish for you to be miserable."

Smiling ruefully, the prince said, "You have the healing arts; is there any way you can mend a broken love?"

"It is not broken, Legolas, only wounded. With proper care, it can prosper again." Espenshade answered.

"It heals too slowly."

"Some wounds are greater than others and require more patience."

Espenshade chuckled when the elf heaved a sigh, falling back onto the bed with his arms spread out above him. Her cerulean eyes gazed up at the ceiling for a moment, before they flashed downwards to meet those of the smiling Muru. He attempted to return it, though soon found himself looking away again. Another moment of comfortable silence ensued before the prince spoke:

"Maybe I'll talk to her." He said, almost to himself.

"That would be a good idea." Espenshade encouraged, her smile widening, "I miss the days when I could fly through the halls without being troubled by lovesick elves."

Legolas glared playfully, saying, "What about my brothers? Surely they were lovesick before either of them were betrothed. And I imagine that at one point you, too, were quite lovesick."

"That is beside the point." She answered, smacking him teasingly on the shoulder, "The point is, you shouldn't be laying around anymore. Instead, you should be making your way down the corridor to seek out Jaimea."

"Oh, but this bed is so comfortable." The ellon protested with a grin, stretching his arms and moaning softly.

"I will drag you to her by the tips of your ears, Legolas, if you do not start marching out that door!"

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For the majority of the trip down to the gardens, there had been silence except for the light padding of footsteps on the carpet, but neither ellith were uncomfortable. When they had emerged into the vast array of fading flowers, still more silence greeted them. The sound of birds was absent, except for the occasional chirping in the distance, and it was empty of all other elves. It seemed that most had opted to retreat into the palace early, retreating from the oncoming winter.

They had come to sit on a stone bench, large enough only for two or three. Jaimea had not uttered a word, content to simply stare at the cracks in the cobblestone pathways, and Lothron's attention had been fixed towards the mountains in the west. An ominous, grey cloud hung about the peaks of the Misty Mountains, and the wind was carrying it swiftly towards the forest. No doubt they would be experiencing the first snowfall in only a few short days.

"What has you so entranced that you would ignore your companion, my sister?" A voice called from the left, quickly gaining the princess's attention. Upon seeing the new occupant of the waning gardens, Lothron smiled.

"I'm just thinking." She offered as the Crown Prince took a seat beside her and placed a kiss on her forehead. He glanced over to the other elleth and inclined his head in greeting, and she repeated his gesture. His dark eyes scanned the garden briefly, landing temporarily on the Komuned rolling around in the last patch of blooming flowers.

"About the storm?" Nórui asked, smiling knowingly, "It has become the most discussed topic in the palace; some believe that it will be the largest we've had in many years."

"And so early in the season, as well." Lothron added.

"Do you think that the others will be alright?" Jaimea asked suddenly, her eyes, too, drifting towards the west, "Iaurtondariel and the Muruien, I mean."

There was thoughtful silence for a moment before Lothron answered, "They should be far away from here by now, Jaimea, probably nearly upon their homeland. You shouldn't worry about them."

The peace of the garden suddenly shifted so that both the prince and princess shifted in discomfort, aware of the abrupt increase in tension. They looked simultaneously towards Jaimea, who had once again averted her eyes to the ground. However, her stiff posture and tight lips revealed her anxiety. Lothron placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Is something wrong?" She asked softly, but Nórui was the one who gave her an answer.

"Legolas is here," He said, nodding his head towards the left, "He just entered. And, most surprisingly, it seems he has convinced Espenshade to speak with him again."

"He has no difficulty going to her to speak of his troubles, but he must send a messenger to talk me." Jaimea muttered stiffly; the two elves frowned, though did not say anything of the matter. Uncomfortable silence reigned as the pair slowly progressed towards them, one confident while the other obviously hesitant. As they approached, the two royals smiled pleasantly.

"I see you two are finally getting along again," Lothron greeted, "A relief."

"Indeed," Nórui agreed, standing up to place a kiss on Espenshade's forehead and to ruffle Legolas' golden hair. The young prince scowled at his grinning brother, batting his hand away.

"I came here to talk to someone else," Legolas muttered under his breath, "Not to be bothered by you."

This brought a pleased smile upon the Crown Prince's lips, gazing proudly at his brother. The golden haired ellon managed to return it faintly, though somewhat uneasily; as if to give him confidence, Nórui clapped his hand on his shoulder before turning away to talk idly with his sister and the Muru, leaving Legolas and Jaimea to themselves.

The elleth's obvious lack of interest sent a jolt of worry in his heart, and he wondered if he had finally upset their bond so much that it could never be repaired; he could not even decide whether to sit next to her or stay where he was. He much preferred to be alone without the distractions of the other elves present, and yet he feared how she would respond were he to ask her if they may leave.

But nothing came to him, and the only word that he could utter was her name. Still, she would not look at him, though he had a feeling she was listening. Chewing on his lip tentatively, he opted to take a seat beside her, careful not to sit too close.

Twiddling his thumbs, the prince would occasionally glance over to see whether she was watching him; he was most disappointed to see that she never even flinched. Sighing in defeat, Legolas looked over to Espenshade to find her narrowing her eyes at him, warning him not to try to escape. But he simply mimicked her expression, then faced the elleth again.

Taking in a deep breath, he finally said, "Jaimea, would you-"

But fate must not have wanted him to speak to the elf, for yet another disruption made itself known in the garden. However, said disruption did not seem apologetic for intruding.

"Adar?" Legolas called, rising to his feet in alarm at the raged expression on his father's face; even Jaimea reacted to the king's apparent anger. The conversation between the other three came to an abrupt halt as they watched curiously as the older ellon stomped his way towards them, his emerald eyes transfixed on one particular elleth.

Nórui stepped beside his brother, shielding the woman from his father's eyes, "What's the matter, Adar?" He called, but was not answered until Thranduil was right upon them, glaring down into their anxious eyes. The princess and Muru said nothing, only watching worriedly.

Narrowing his eyes, the Crown Prince started, "What can we do for you today, Adar?"

"You can step aside and let me take that elleth you seem to be protecting for some odd reason." He growled.

"Ada, what's going on?" Lothron asked, but she went ignored. She took a step towards the king, but Espenshade placed a stilling hand on her arm, preventing her from moving forwards.

Tension was thick in the air as the father and his sons stared defiantly into one another's eyes, daring the other to make a move. Behind them sat the elleth, gazing up at the back of their heads, her fingers nearly digging into the stone bench. She glanced over to the other two women for help, but found that they were just as transfixed as the three ellyn were.

Almost as if a silent agreement had been made, Thranduil took one step back, though did not avert his eyes. Dangerously low, he said, "I wish to see the three of you in my study this moment." He did not wait for a response, instead sweeping around and stalking rigidly the way he had come.

The two princes remained where they were until the king had disappeared around the corner, then simultaneously fell back onto the bench with heavy sighs of relief. Nórui glanced over to his brother with a small smirk, saying, "I thought he was going to tear our throats out, by the look on his face."

However, the younger elf did not seem as entertained as his brother. He shot the Crown Prince an admonishing look, "Nórui, this is no laughing matter. If this is about what I fear it is, his opinion is already evident."

The smirk on the older ellon's lips did not disappear, but shrank noticeably. He met Legolas's eyes for only a brief moment before looking down at his clasped hands. Carefully, he said, "Adar wouldn't get so angry about that, would he? Surely he is more levelheaded than you."

This jab went ignored by the other elf as he answered, "I wouldn't be too sure about it."

Jaimea suddenly stood from her seat, her back rigid and tense. Both ellyn shot each other worried looks; Legolas tentatively reached out to touch her arm, but her hard words stopped him.

"I would appreciate it if you wouldn't speak about me when I'm sitting right in between you," She stated tersely. Even when the Komuned popped up from its flower bed and ran to her leg to nuzzle into her hand, she continued, "We should go."

The three elves and Muru watched the elleth stride away swiftly, her fists clenched at her sides. Lothron once again opened her mouth to speak, but the Crown Prince held up his hand to stop her, and said, "Just come with us."

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Even when only half aware, the young Muru knew that something was wrong; he could not place what it was, but something felt unnatural, misplaced. As his eyes slowly cleared and his head stopped spinning, he suddenly became painfully aware what was 'unnatural': his arm had bent in such a position that he wasn't entirely sure that it was even his arm.

Hissing between his teeth, he forced himself into a sitting position, cradling his limp arm against his chest. However, stars burst in front of his eyes and his head swam on his shoulders again as soon as he was upright, sending him right back onto the cold ground with a crunching thud.

The next thing he was aware of was laughter floating in the air. He thought for a moment that it was the two females that they had been traveling with, but memories of the past night came swooping back to him. Groaning softly, he struggled to locate the direction of the voice.

His voice was raspy and rough as he called, "Ricamros?"

There was silence for a moment, and he began to wonder if he was only hearing voices, until the familiar sound of his brother nearby reached his ears.

"Aye," Was the Muru's response.

"Where are you?" Tarmikos croaked, raising his functioning arm to his forehead.

"Try opening your eyes."

Blinking rapidly, the Muru obeyed and glanced around wearily. The glares from the snow hurt his head, and a throbbing he hadn't noticed before increased tenfold. Narrowing his eyes to keep out the sun, Tarmikos turned his head slightly to find that his brother was laying not more than ten feet from him.

Ricamros offered his brother a small grin, "Good morning."

Rolling his eyes, Tarmikos smirked dryly, "I see you're in a good mood, despite the fact that we just fell off a cliff and now have no idea where we are."

"That's the spirit."

Sighing wearily, the younger prince examined his brother from head to foot: the most he could find in terms of injuries was a bruised face, scratches all over his body- some worse than others- and an oddly placed arm. Judging from his ragged breathing, he suspected a few broken ribs as well. He was shocked to see that there wasn't any other noticeable injury, considering what had just occurred.

When he looked back up to the prince's face, he found that Ricamros had noticed the examination, and was gazing at him sadly. Tarmikos smiled as if to console him that he hadn't found anything too extensive, but that seemed to only deepen his frown.

"How long have you been awake?" Tarmikos asked, once again trying to sit up. Using one arm to support himself, he turned to get a better look at his brother. The other arm continued to hang lifeless on the snowy ground.

"Not too long," Was the prince's quiet answer. Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, the younger Muru attempted to pull himself closer.

"What's wrong?" He asked before breaking into a fit of ragged coughing. Crumpling back to the ground, he held his hand over his mouth in an effort to soften the harsh noise. When he was sure that no more would come forth, he slowly moved his hand away and was most displeased to see a few trickles of blood. 'It seems I'm the one with the broken ribs,' he thought dryly.

"Are you alright?" He heard Ricamros ask worriedly, but Tarmikos shook his head.

"I'm fine," He answered, looking back over at him and resuming his awkward trek to his side, "But something isn't right with you."

"It's alright," The Crown Prince retorted quickly.

"If it was alright, you would be moving away," Tarmikos shot back, now looming over his brother, "Now, tell me."

Both princes stared expectantly into one another's eyes, one hoping the other would leave while the other hoping to find what exactly it was that was bothering his brother. Ricamros knew that he was destined to lose this battle, and so it took only a few moments for him to give in.

Sighing softly, he said, "Something's wrong."

"What is it?" Tarmikos prompted, his tone much softer now. It took the older prince a few moments to speak again, and when he did, the younger Muru almost wished that he hadn't forced this information out. To Ricamros, it felt like confirming a fear that he had hoped by ignoring would go away.

His voice trembling, he said, "I came to four hours ago, and…Tarmikos, I can't… I… I haven't been able to feel my legs since I awoke."

**XXXXX**

**Yes, I'm very late. I know. I'm not giving out any excuses. Let's just say that sometimes a good cry can make the whole world seem much better… and can give a writer a taste for angst. **

**I made this chapter a little longer, in hopes that maybe it would make the wait a little less… painful? I don't know, what ever you want to call it. Sorry if I left a few of you unsatisfied; just know that it isn't my intention. Sometimes things come up, and I just can't get around to writing. But anyway, I said no excuses, so I'm going to shut up before I start giving them.**

**Oh, and be aware that authors notes before the chapter are usually written days, sometimes weeks, before the last authors note it written. Just thought I'd point that out. **

**Next chapter WILL be posted much faster. **

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel**


	10. A King's Judgment

**Yay! I'm back! Happy dance everyone! Okay, maybe not, but oh well. Good mood happening right now. Woot! **

**Now, let's see how much worse I can make the lives of my wonderfully defenseless brain children. **

_**Ricamros: I want my lawyer!**_

**XXXXX**

Chapter 10- A King's Judgment

Jocikah plopped down into the snow with a crunch, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her fingers had gone numb from the cold, and her cheeks were colored a bright red that contrasted with her usually pale skin. Her hair was damp from the melting snow so that it clung to her face, and her normally warm boots had been soaked through with water. She was in a miserable state as it was, not to mention the many bruises and abrasions that decorated her arms and legs.

Tiredly, the Muru glanced up to the pacing elleth who was more than anxious to keep moving. Jocikah felt a guilt for holding the elf back, and she felt sympathy for her as well; as much as she wanted to deny it, she knew that there was no way the two princes could have survived such a fall. If they had, she feared what state they would find them in.

Swallowing hard, the Muru dug her fingers into the powdery snow, "Iaurtondariel," She said, and the elf stopped her pacing abruptly, "If you want to keep going, don't let me stop you. I can meet up with you later."

Iaurtondariel stared at the woman as though she did not recognize her. Jocikah began to feel awkward under the elf's piercing gaze before she answered;

"I don't understand how you can give up hope so easily," There was a look of disappointment on her face.

"Believe me, I would give anything to know that they were alright and sitting just around the next corner; but I won't fool myself, convince myself that everything _is_ alright, just to find them buried under the snow without a trace of life left in them."

Unhappy with the Muru's explanation, Iaurtondariel growled under her breath and turned away, starting back down the mountain with her fists clenched tightly at her sides. It was unthinkable that the woman could have any doubt that both of them were alive. In her heart, the elleth knew that even if they were alive, they must be too broken to even move. They would be defenseless if anything chanced upon them.

Shutting her eyes tightly, Iaurtondariel forced those thoughts out of her mind; she didn't need to end up like Jocikah.

"If you don't want to continue, you can stay here. But I'm going to find Ricamros and Tarmikos, whether you want to help or not."

Jocikah glared at the elf's retreating back, digging her chapped fingers into the snow so that its coldness bit at her sensitive skin. She herself wished for nothing more than to find the two princes, maybe even more so than Iaurtondariel did, but she refused to give herself false hope. It would only cause the undeniable truth to be that much harder, and she would not allow that to happen to her. She only prayed that if Tarmikos was, indeed, no longer in this world, he would forgive her.

When she looked back over to the elf, Jocikah found that she had already gone. Suddenly, the wind seemed just a little bit harsher, the snow just a little bit heavier, and the silence of the mountain that more suffocating, more lonely.

Rising to her feet tentatively while biting on her bottom lip, the Muru glanced over her shoulder to determine which way to go; in all directions, there was nothing but white powder blanketing the rocky slopes of the mountain range. Her footprints had already been covered over, and poor visibility allowed her to see but a few feet in front of her.

Panic gripping her heart, she whipped back around and called, "Iaurtondariel!" Her voice was carried off into the wind and echoed, but no response came to her. Again, she called for the elf to return, but still no answer.

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The two elven princes stared without waver up at their father as the king sat silently behind his desk, almost as if he had forgotten that they were even present. Were it not for the pulsing vein on his forehead and the unnatural red coloring to his cheeks, they would have thought that nothing was out of the norm. The thick tension in the expansive chambers, however, helped to disprove this notion.

After a long moment of silence, Lothron could take it no longer. Stepping away from the other women, she came to stand beside her brothers and said, "Adar, what is the meaning of this? Why have you called us here?"

"I do not specifically remember summoning you, Lothron," Thranduil retorted stiffly, "But I suppose that it would not hurt, as this interesting bit of news will soon be announced to the entire kingdom."

Legolas flinched slightly at this statement, but Nórui remained firm.

"Perhaps you would care to enlighten us as to what it is that has angered you so?" The Crown Prince said, confidence lacing his voice. The Elvenking turned his ire upon his son.

"I would have thought you would know already, my son," He snapped, earning himself a harder glare, "How about you tell them?"

A satisfied smirk crossed the king's lips when Nórui failed to answer. Leaning back in his seat with his fingers clasped, he muttered dryly, "I thought I had raised you to be strong."

Ignoring the outraged expressions upon his children's faces, Thranduil sat forward again, this time with a determination and anger in his emerald eyes. He turned his attention now to Jaimea, meeting her cold yet frightful gaze with his own. There was a long silence between them, and the others in the room believed they could feel the electricity of their gazes crackling in the air about them. Finally, the king looked away to his sons once again.

"I am deeply ashamed that you failed to report to me this information," He said in a low tone, "Information so important, so critical to the safety of our people. Both of you will be punished accordingly."

This brought a look a shock and confusion on the faces of the occupants in the room, so that even the princes faltered slightly. Swallowing hard, Lothron spoke again:

"Adar, what are you saying?" She asked breathily.

Like water bursting through a broken dam, anger rolled out of the king as he rose to his full height, his posture menacing and irate. His body shook as he shouted roughly, "This _wench_ has been revealed for what she truly is! This elleth that you have been consorting with assisted in the murder of your mother!"

There was silence for but a moment before the princes cried out in outrage while Jaimea stared dumbstruck at the king. Her blood pounded like thunder in her ears, and her body felt numb all at once. She felt the princess's disbelieving eyes upon her, as well as the stare of the Muru, but she did not make any sign of denying what he had said.

"That is ridiculous, Adar!" Nórui shouted in rage, "It is false!"

"She would do nothing of the sort!" The once silent Legolas bellowed, his face taking on the same color as his father's.

"I will hear none of it!" Thranduil retorted, slamming his fists on his desk, "My ears did not deceive me when I was told of this!"

"Then your source is incorrect; Jaimea had no involvement in Naneth's death- it was Elinyro!" The younger prince challenged.

The name of the ellon that had inflicted such damage to their family ignited more fury within the elf's body. His next words came with such force that neither prince could find any words to reply with, "I said, I will hear no more of what you have to say! You knowingly and willingly mingled with an enemy, betraying both your family and your country! As punishment, you both will be stripped of your titles and taken to your new residence, the dungeons, and as for the elleth," His furious eyes fixated themselves on the trembling body of Jaimea, "I condemn her to death!"

"You cannot do-!"

"_Silence!_" Thranduil roared, "This discussion is over. Guards!"

When the doors burst open, they all whirled around to see six heavily armed guards storm into the room, their eyes steely and cold. The two princes thrashed as the elves attempted to restrain them while simultaneously crying out to their father about the absurdity of his declaration. Their words fell on deaf ears, however, as the king turned his back upon them and resumed his work.

The princess and Muru watched in incredulity as the three were taken from the room, two struggling to break free, while the other making not a single sign of attempting to resist. Lothron felt her heart tearing in two, unsure of who to believe. She knew that her father would not create such a lie, but she could not doubt his words; he had always done what was best for the kingdom and his family.

Even when the doors had been slammed shut and the shouting of the ellyn had faded, both women stood rooted to the spot, both staring with wide eyes at the elf hunched over his desk.

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After many long, painful moments of sitting in silence, Tarmikos found he could bear it no longer. There had to be some other explanation for what had happened to his brother, anything would be better than what he feared was the truth. It was unthinkable that this could have happened to him, one so important to their city; without him, their army would be leaderless, and he would no doubt be deemed unfit to take the throne with such impairment.

To his own ears, his voice sounded harsh as he said, "Are you sure you cannot feel them at all? Perhaps they are only broken, or your body is in shock from the fall."

"I have been praying that that is all it is since I awoke," Ricamros answered softly, turning his head away as if ashamed, "But my hope has been waning with each passing moment that I fail to make even the slightest movement."

Tarmikos gazed down at his brother, his lips thin, "Losing hope is the last thing you want to do," Carefully so as not to jar his injured arm, the younger twin waddled on his knees down to the other Muru's feet, ignoring the other's questioning stare. Then delicately, as if handling a fragile rose, he unlaced one of his brother's boots and tossed it aside in the snow. Glancing up quickly, he met his brother's navy blue eyes momentarily before looking away again.

As if it meant life or death, Tarmikos inhaled sharply and reached down to touch his foot, but the Muru's voice stopped him.

"Do not confirm my fears," He said, "Don't waste your time."

"Ricamros, there is a possibility that it is not what you think it is," Tarmikos persisted.

The older prince rolled his eyes in exasperation, "I do not recall ever hearing of complete loss of feeling and usage as a side effect of a broken leg."

"Perhaps, but you never were too sharp in our studies," Was the other Muru's quick response. Narrowing his eyes, Ricamros grunted under his breath and looked away. There was nothing but silence for a long way, except for the soft whispering of the wind. Tarmikos gazed forlornly at his brother, unable to believe that one he had known to be so strong of will and body would so easily give up on hope.

"Put my boot back on, Tarmikos," The prince said so softly that his voice was almost carried off in the wind.

Watching as his brother's silver hair blew gently about his face, a single, unbidden tear slipped from Tarmikos' shimmering eyes. He sat in the snow for a long while until he felt that the cold would freeze his body in place, then slowly did his brother's bidding. It was not that he couldn't believe his brother's words that he cried, but rather that he had been touching his foot the entire time and Ricamros had never even acknowledged it.

**XXXXX**

**Um… :scratches head: Yea. I blame the muses:points: **

**I had to chose between two extremes for Thranduil's reaction: one, he chickens out at the last minute and sits for a few chapters while deciding what to do, or two, he does what he did. I don't know about all of you, but I preferred it this way. And I made the punishments pretty extreme, too, didn't I? Tee hee. I love being the author. **

**I'm very excited about the upcoming chapters. Rather, later chapters, but oh well. I'm still excited about them. :spins happily in her spinny chair: You'll see why much later. :D **

**Oh, one last thing. :coughcoughhackJOUSTINGELFWITHASABERcoughhack: I'm switching over email servers from Adelphia to Comcast, and I've been having a few technical difficulties. So, until those have been sorted out, I won't be able to reply to emails. In case anyone wanted to email me. Cough. Cough. **

**There, I think that was discreet enough. :D Ta ta!**

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel **


	11. Unfamiliarity

**I finally return, a little better than before. I apologize if this chapter isn't up to par; I'm not feeling my best at the moment.**

**XX**

Chapter 11- Unfamiliarity

Unable to shut out the banging and shouting of his irate brother, Legolas simply closed his eyes and exhaled softly through his nose. Tucked away in the corner of his cell, the young prince had not uttered a word ever since they had been imprisoned three days ago; perhaps it was the darkness that surrounded him that robbed him of his voice, or maybe the disappoint that he felt of himself and the betrayal he felt from his father. Whatever the case was, he certainly had no intentions of moving from that damp spot until his mind had been cleared of all irrational thought. Ever since they had returned from Banemera, it seemed that all that was on his mind was rash ideas and ignorance.

Slowly, he opened his eyes when he noticed that his brother's voice had vanished. Perking up slightly, he pressed his dulling ears to the stone wall.

"Nórui?" He called; he had only heard the Crown Prince silence himself when he was sleeping or eating, and he knew that neither of those were happening. When he continued to hear nothing but silence, he called the ellon's name again, "Are you there, Nórui?"

There was a brief pause, followed by a gruff, "What do you want?"

Legolas cast his cerulean eyes down to look at his shackled feet and arms, "Nothing," He uttered. Again, silence reigned between the two brothers, though even through the cold rock, they could feel each other's tension. Drawing his knees awkwardly up to his chest, the younger elf continued, "I'm sorry for dragging you into this."

"Yes, well," Were Nórui's first hurried words, but he cut himself off then, unsure of how to respond to Legolas' apology. He knew that it was difficult for his younger brother to admit that he was wrong, courtesy of their father; both had always been known for being thickheaded. The Crown Prince did not want to say this to him, afraid that another fight would break out between them.

The young prince heard the clanking of chains, followed by a much softer version of his brother's voice, "What we need to think about now is Jaimea's fate, and how Adar came to such conclusions about her. Any ideas?"

"I cannot think of any reason; up until now, he has seemed to show a genuine liking for her, and there is no one that I know of that may have lied to him about her. No one besides the three of us even knew." Legolas answered. There was a short pause, followed by, "Do you know where they took her?"

The clanking of chains from the other side of the wall told the young prince that his brother had shrugged. Nórui answered, "I do not make it a habit of visiting the dungeons often, and so I do not know where they would hold some one who had committed such a 'crime' as she did." He finished with a scoff, then added under his breath, "This is absolutely the most ridiculous thing Adar has ever done."

"Nórui, do you think… do you think he will actually allow her to be killed?"

As the silence dragged on and the golden haired elf heard not a sound from his brother, he felt his heart fall deeper and deeper. If the Crown Prince had no hope, then Legolas felt for sure that they would be unlikely able to aid the elleth. Being stuck in the cells did not do much for the cause either. Shutting his eyes, the young elf rested his head against the wall and sighed softly, a small tear escaping from his eye.

Perhaps they had all been right in their words, that love could never work between him and Jaimea. They were too different, they had their own ideas and desires. While she wanted time to sort out of her thoughts, he wanted to rush into the matter like a love struck elfling. She was patient, he was impulsive; that was what had landed him in bad standings with her in the first place. If only he had accepted her at the beginning, accepted the truth for what it was.

The sound of his brother's voice calling his name brought him abruptly out of his thoughts. Blinking slowly, he wondered when his eyes had become so moist.

"Are you crying, Legolas?" Nórui asked softly. The younger prince, however, stayed silent as he stared straight ahead at the cold, rock wall before him., the wall that seemed to be getting closer with every second. This was enough answer for the Crown Prince, and so he did not utter another word.

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"Ada, surely, you would reconsider!" Lothron exclaimed, rooted to the center of her father's private chambers. Thranduil did not show any signs of answering her, but the pulsing vein on his forehead was enough to show his anger and frustration. The grip he held on his quill was enough to nearly crush the instrument, and his eyes were fixed tensely on the paperwork before him. He refused to give in to his daughter's pleading.

Ever since the three elves had been removed from the king's study two days ago, the Crown Princess had been relentlessly arguing with the ellon, begging with him to think rationally; he had no proof that this was true, and even if it was, it would not change Lothron's view of the elleth, nor her brothers.

"Adar!" She shouted again, hoping to finally get Thranduil to look at her. Her frustration mounting, she continued angrily, "If you do this to your sons, you will be left without heirs! You cannot honestly expect I to-"

"Do you take me for some crippled king?!" Thranduil suddenly jerked up from his chair, his emerald eyes boring hotly into his daughter's. Slamming his fists down on the desk, causing his pot of ink to fall over on the papers he had been writing, he shouted. "I do not know what you believe, but I do not have any intentions of succumbing to old age any time soon; I will have no need for an heir!"

"Oh, so you will claim the throne forever? You are not invincible!"

"You do not have the authority to talk to me this way, nor do you even know of the matters of which you speak! This is not about the throne." The king answered, his fingernails digging into the polished wood.

"It is about your future and the future of all the elves who call this place home!"

"_I_ am Mirkwood's future now."

Lothron pressed her lips together tightly, willing to keep back all of her emotions from flowing out. The elleth stared incredulously at the ellon, wondering how the elf that had raised her with such loving care could suddenly unleash such anger and ferocity. She had never expected such irrational thought to come from him, the king of all of Mirkwood. For a moment, she began to even wonder if this event had shaken his stability and strength.

Swallowing back a lump in her throat, the elleth continued softly, "Ada, please, would you reconsider your decision?"

"My sons betrayed me, Lothron. How could I?" Was his subdued answer.

"Do you know for certain if that is the case?" Lothron recoiled when Thranduil gave her a cold stare, but went on, "And even if this is the case, they would not do so without good reason. Both Nórui and Legolas are loyal to you and our people."

"But you have not spoken of Jaimea yet. What do you think about her?"

Her heart fluttering, Lothron looked down to her feet, her pale blue gown shifting at her ankles. She was silent in thought for a long moment, biting tentatively at her bottom lip; it was not that she agreed with the punishment her father had dealt the elleth, but more the guilt and fear that suddenly started biting at her insides. Before anyone else, Jaimea had entrusted her and Melyanna with that secret while traveling to Banemera. It was not the betrayal she would feel that stilled her lips, but cowardice. She feared that her father would do unto her as he had done to her brothers.

When the silence continued to go on, Thranduil said, "I see that you have no objections."

"That was not what I said." Was her immediate answer.

"Then what did you say, Lothron? Unless old age," He spat, "Has caught up to me and I simply missed your answer. But from what I can recall, you have not said anything at all."

The princess gave him a sneer, "I will not allow you to treat them this way, Adar. Somehow, I will find a way free them from this punishment."

"Are you suggesting treason, my daughter?"

"I am suggesting justice, my king," She spat, then turned on her heel, "Good day," And marched from the room, leaving the king to rage in silence.

As soon as the door had shut, tears began to stream down her pale face; what had happened to her father to make him believe such a thing? But what frustrated her most was that she, too, knew the truth behind that story, and yet she was too cowardly to tell her father otherwise. She feared above all else that he would reject her as well; just as Legolas had been the closest to their mother, the Crown Princess had been closest to their father. Perhaps it was the typical father-daughter bond, but the ellon had always made her feel loved, like she belonged, but now she feared him.

What had happened to their family? What had gone _wrong_?

A hand on her shaking shoulders caused the princess to whip around suddenly, her puffy eyes wide. Before her stood a young elleth, apparently one of the servants, and on her face was a look of concern and worry.

"My lady, are you alright?" She questioned softly. Wiping the tears from her eyes with a finger, Lothron gave her a watery smile.

"Yes, everything is fine," She said. She furrowed her brow slightly, "I am sorry, but I do not recall your name."

The maid smiled slightly, "Tirieth, my lady." She answered. Lothron nodded in acknowledgement, smiling.

However, that smile never reached her eyes. Tirieth? She had never heard that name before, and she generally knew all of the maids in the palace. It was possible that she was new, but she would still have been informed if another elleth were to join the palace servants. Frowning now for a different reason than before, she continued down the hall quickly, lost in thought.

However, high above the palace and trees, soaring among the darkening clouds was a lone falcon. It's golden wings shimmered in the rapidly disappearing sun, and its sharp call pierced the silence of the lands. Scanning the far distance with its beady, blue eyes, the falcon flew off at incredible speeds, away from the forest. Upon seeing it, one would believe that it was but a creature flying aimlessly into the horizon, but this falcon had a purpose, and one that it was intent on accomplishing.

**XX**

**Have any of you ever had those dreams where you see somebody you've never seen before, but seem to know exactly who they are? Well, that's what happened to me, and I think that's why I finally managed to get this out. I had a dream a few nights ago that _Nendir_ was yelling at me, saying that I was lazy and such. It was weird, having your brain child yelling at you… hmm. Maybe I shouldn't have so much caffeine before I go to bed. **

**Okay, whoever wants to know my excuses for being so late, here they are. If you don't want to know, skip to the next paragraph. Okay, first reason: family issues. Let's leave it at that. Second reason: lack of motivation. Not only in writing, but _every_thing. I just haven't been wanting to do anything but sit recently. Probably just the winter blues (but in April…? Stupid weather!) **

**Well… I am aware that this chapter is extremely short, but for the life of me, I couldn't find any way to continue it. I didn't want to cut to the Muruien/Elleth yet, and every one else was covered. So… yea. Short chapter. Lo siento, mis amigos. Now, I need to finish a few art pieces for my friend's art show. Tally ho!**

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel **


	12. Tumbling Towers

**Good evening, people! Or morning, or afternoon, which ever you prefer. It's actually the afternoon here, in case you were wondering. Rightio. Onwards, shall we, amigos? Let's see what my brain children have gotten themselves into this time. Bwahaha.**

**XXXXX**

Chapter 12- Tumbling Towers

Eleidan rubbed his eyes with his fist tiredly as he sauntered down the corridor, dreading the moment that we would step into his chambers. He knew what lurked there, and it was not something that he was looking forward to; not in the least bit. He had endured many years in the Mirkwood palace and had faced many trials, but nothing could compare to the terror that resided in that room. Briefly, the ellon contemplated just turning around and never returning to that place, but he knew that if he were to do so and the creature inside found him, he would never hear the end of it.

Shutting his eyes with a sigh, the elf grabbed hold of the knob on the door and slowly turned it, then pushed the door open cautiously. Peeking through the crack he had created, he was surprised to see that the one he feared was no where to be found. Whether this was a good or bad omen, he did not know.

The elf stepped in, taking another quick glance around, and shut the door behind him; he was trapped now, no escape. His steps were cautious as he made his way into the main room.

'_No sign of her yet_,' He thought, eyes peering every which way, '_Maybe she-_'

Suddenly, something leapt upon his back and wrapped their arms around his neck, effectively drawing him out of his thoughts and nearly made him topple to the ground. He gritted his teeth against the uncomfortable weight, trying desperately to keep his balance. Not even a light giggle in his ear could wipe away the strained expression on his face.

"I missed you, Eleidan," The elleth upon his back laughed into his ear, but the ellon was in no laughing mood. Shutting his eyes in irritation, he pried the other elf's arms off his neck, letting her drop gently to the ground, then proceeded to stalk to the opposite side of the room.

The elleth watched him go, her pale, gray eyes shimmering with concern. She rested her hands on her swollen belly, quirking her head to one side. Slowly, she approached the ellon with light footsteps, then placed her hand on his shoulder gently.

"What is troubling you, my husband?" She asked softly.

Eleidan chuckled humorlessly, "I will allow you one guess as to what it is."

Frowning, she removed her hand and strode away from him, plopping down quite ungracefully onto the edge of the bed. She shifted to make herself more comfortable, then responded to him, "It is not your fault that this has happened to Prince Nóruion and Prince Legolas; it was their own blunder, not yours."

"You speak as though you believe what the king has said," He shot back roughly, taking a seat on a nearby sofa.

"The king has not given us a reason to doubt his words," She retorted, "I, personally, would not put such behavior past those two; ever since they were mere elflings, they managed to find their way into trouble. Now, if Nendir were still here, things would be sorted out properly and efficiently; he is the only of the princes that had any sense. Even at a young age, he showed an extraordinary intelligence and leadership."

Eleidan narrowed his eyes, but did not direct them upon the elleth. Crossing on leg over the other, he muttered through gritted teeth, "You say that, my dear Idhrin, about the murderer of our late queen."

"_Crown_ Prince Nendir had nothing to do with her death!" She exclaimed, her fists tightening on the bed sheets, "The king had to have been put under a spell when he banished his first born and named Nóruion the crown prince."

"Do you not realize the hypocrisy in your words? Jaimea is as innocent as Nendir was in the matter!" The ellon shot back, struggling to control the biting tone in his voice. He could see that his wife's face had begun to flush from anger, and knew that very soon, her rage would explode. Past experiences told him to run away as fast as he could, but after what he had put his friends through, he felt it his duty to defend them and their innocence.

Idhrin huffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder, but not another word came from her mouth. The ellon's face slowly softened as he watched her, his legs uncrossing. Despite himself and his beliefs, a very familiar pang of guilt shuddered down his body, and he soon found himself coming to his feet and slowly making his way towards the elleth. He sat down beside her, placing a gentle hand around her waist. She did not respond to him, but he could sense that she was aware of him.

"Idhrin," He said softly, "You know I don't mean to anger you, but I must defend my friends. You would do the same thing, I think."

"My friends are not murderers and traitors." Was her curt answer. Eleidan's lips thinned as he withdrew his hand.

"You were friendly with Nendir, if I can remember correctly. Was he not a murderer?"

"No, he was not." The elleth spat bitterly. The other elf narrowed his eyes at his wife, not caring to delve even deeper into the argument; he knew by know that arguing with the elleth was pointless and would only serve to make things more difficult.

Standing abruptly, he kept his fists at his side as he stormed to the door and left, slamming it behind him.

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Howling wind whipped through the young prince's long, silvery hair as he sat staring at the crystalline snow, his fingers buried deep down within it. His leggings had long since been saturated with water and his skin had gone numb, but he could not bring himself to move from his brother's side. He could hear his faint breathing beside him, but was unable to find rest as the other prince had. Troubled thoughts ran rampant through his toiling mind, and even after a few moments of thinking, a pounding in his head would prevent him from pondering any further.

Wincing against the pain, Tarmikos placed a hand to his forehead, massaging it gently in an attempt to ease the pain. The Muru had lost track of the time that he sat there, waiting for his brother to leap up and for the two women to suddenly appear from down the mountain. What had happened to them, he thought with some apprehension. The last time he had seen them was when the warg appeared seemingly out of no where, and he heard their screams as they fell. Those screams still echoed in his ears.

The prince slowly drifted further and further into his thoughts as the shouting in his ears grew louder and louder, almost until he believed that it was not in his mind, but someone was calling their names over the wind. His brow furrowed as he tried to shake off the noise, but it continued to ring. Frustrated, his eyes pinged open and he stole a glance at his brother.

"Ricamros?" He asked softly, but the Muru prince didn't budge. Frowning, he touched his arm gently, "Ricamros, are you…?"

_Ricamros! Tarmikos!_

Glaring into the distance, the prince shook his head and placed his hand back in his lap, the other arm still limp at his side. Why would those haunting voices not leave him be?

_Where are you!_

It was so close, he realized as he grew more alert. Could it really be them? His heart racing in his heart, his navy blue eyes glanced every which way. After a long, silent moment, he began to wonder if it was all in his head, but after he heard his name once again, he shouted into the wind.

"Iaurtondariel!" There was another brief pause.

"Tarmikos?"

Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he forced himself up despite the pain in his leg, "We're over here, Iaurtondariel! Follow my voice!"

Within moments, he could hear the crunching of snow under footsteps and rapid breathing, then finally a dark silhouette appearing through the curtain of snow. His eyes lit up in excitement and relief as he shouted the elleth's name again. Her face came into view and, though it was covered in small scratches, he was never more happy to see it. Taking a few shaky steps before his legs collapsed out from beneath him, he had time to shout her name one more time before he found himself wrapped tightly in the arms of the elleth.

"Thank the Valar, I've finally found you!" She cried into his shoulder, twisting her fingers in his clumpy hair, "I thought for sure you would not have survived that fall."

"You underestimate us, my lady," He said with a strained chuckle. Then as quickly as she had embraced him, she untwined her arms from around his neck and looked around in panic before setting her eyes on the other Muru.

"Ricamros!" She called, running awkwardly through the deepening snow. Tarmikos' brow creased into a frown when the woman dropped down at his brother's head.

"Iaurtondariel," He whispered, unsure if his voice would carry to her, "Ricamros… he's…"

The prince did not bother to complete his sentence, for it was apparent upon her face that she did not need telling. It felt as if his heart had been squeezed as he watched the elleth desperately shake the Muru's arm, whispering words that he could not hear. Careful not to jar his injuries, he pulled himself towards the pair and sat beside the elf.

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the occasional howl of wind or the small sobs of the elleth. He tentatively reached for her hand and laced his fingers with hers, "He has no feeling in his legs, he said the last time he was awake. They may simply be broken, but…" His voice trailed off as his throat hitched, rendering him unable to finish. He sat for a minute, waiting to regain control of his emotions, before calling his brother's name.

"Ricamros," He said, "Iaurtondariel is here. Wake up to show her that you are alright." He gave the elleth a reassuring squeeze of the hand, but as time went on and there was no response, his frown slowly deepened. Fearing the worst, he said again, "Ricamros, are you awake?" Still no response.

Iaurtondariel's grip on his hand suddenly became excruciatingly tight, so much so that he winced. However, it was not enough to distract him from the fear that suddenly had assailed him. Voice cracking as the elleth's sobs grew louder, he called desperately, "This isn't amusing, Ricamros. Wake up!"

Iaurtondariel's tears now fell freely down her cheeks as his own tears threatened to spill over as well. He had heard him breathing only minutes ago… there was no way this could have happened! A feeling of helplessness took over the prince's body as he stared down at his brother's body with fear shimmering in his eyes. It simply was not possible, that the Muru would succumb to the pain.

"Ricamros!" He shouted, almost angrily, "Ricamros, wake up now!"

But his eyes never did open and no word ever was uttered past his lips. Snowflakes fell upon his pale cheeks and contrasted against his dark lashes, adding to the peaceful look upon his face. But the young Muru continued to whisper his brother's name under his breath, pleading for him to return, as the elleth at his side mourned, silvery tears dripping onto the snow.

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Far from the forest of Mirkwood and the treacherous terrain of the Misty Mountains, a golden falcon soared silently above the rolling, grassy plains. The wind whistled in its feathers, hindering its movement, but it was undeterred in its mission. Rarely did it stray this far from its woody home, but this time it would make an exception; it refused to sit and watch as the royal family was slowly torn apart.

Long ago, the falcon had discovered the path to the home it now sought, but had never shared its location with any beast or creature, lest it be discovered and its purity spoiled. Flying as fast as its wings would carry it, the trip took just under a day.

When the small home appeared as just a black dot on the ground below, a shrill screech came from its mouth and it shot downwards, reaching the grasses in seconds. Its sharp talons dug into the earth when it landed, blue eyes darting every which way. Another screech issued from its beak when it spotted, high up in a towering tree, a small house concealed in the leaves.

A golden light surrounded the bird for a brief moment, then dispersed to reveal a golden haired woman with frightened cerulean eyes. Her bare feet carried her towards the tree and quickly ascended a flimsy, rope ladder. She pushed open a hatch before pulling herself up onto a wide porch, then, without even bothering the knock, burst through the door.

A dark haired woman gasped in shock, nearly dropping the giggling infant in her arms. Instinctively drawing the child closer to her bosom, she stared at the new arrival with fear, only to be quickly replaced with relief. Releasing her tight hold on the babe, she questioned with some worry:

"What is it, Espenshade?" The child tugged at his mother's wavy hair, giggling bubbly, though she was undeterred by it.

It took a while for the Muru to catch her breath, but finally managed to gasp, "Mirkwood…Thranduil…he has… they are in trouble…"

No explanations were needed, for the woman immediately hurried into a connecting room, almost leaping over another fair haired toddler sitting on the floor, creating a precariously stacked tower of wooden blocks. The child's oddly colored eyes met Espenshade's, and the girl giggled, flailing her arms in excitement. Her hand accidentally smacked knocked one of the blocks out of place, causing them all to topple at her feet. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the mess before her, not understanding what had happened.

**XXXXX**

**Maaan, I'm exhausted. I had to wake up early today to take my stupid SATs, so that wasn't very fun. Now I'm listening to the Spanish version of 'Whenever, Wherever'. It's so fun and bouncy. :D **

**Okay, now it's the next day, lol. I was so exhausted that I couldn't even finish the author's note, so I'm finishing it now. I also went back and redid the scene with Tarmikos and Iaurtondariel. If I hadn't, you all would have been crying, but for a different reason. Although it still isn't at its best; I'm horrible at redoing scenes. Le gasp. Well… I don't have anything else to rant about, so see ya later!**

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel**


	13. Dos Almas

**Well, I got my senior pictures done today at school, and they have turned out hideous. I mean, I've never been very confident in my appearance, but these pictures just… ugh. Can't even bear to admit that it's me. Le sigh. And to think, I spent two and half hours waiting to get them done. Stupid photographers…**

**/endrant**

**XXXXX**

Chapter 13- Dos Almas

With each shudder that rolled down the sobbing elleth's spine, the young prince felt his heart fall deeper and deeper into sorrow so far that he feared he would never find joy in life again. For a moment, he wished that it was he and not his brother that lay motionless in the bitter snow so that she would not be crying, but then fear overcame him and he abandoned those thoughts; if it was not her crying, it would be someone else. At least, that was what he was trying to convince himself of. However, these reassurances seemed to become more fantasy than reality when the minutes ticked by and the silhouette he prayed would appear in the distance never appeared.

What had happened to Jocikah? Why did she not follow after Iaurtondariel? His mind ran rampant, conjuring up ideas so terrifying that he would catch his heart racing and his body trembling. The Muru tried to give up these notions, but they would always creep into the back of his mind like shadows whenever he let his guard down.

Another anguished cry from the elleth, and Tarmikos dug his chapped hands into the snow. The arm that hung limp was now so numb that it felt like mere rubber attached to his body. Eyes tightly closed, he tried to block out her voice, but her whispering his brother's name prevented him from doing so.

"Iaurtondariel," He whispered hoarsely, his voice carrying off into the wind. She made no sign of hearing him, so he slowly pulled himself along towards her. The image of Ricamros' unmoving body drilled itself, unbidden, into his mind, and even when he quickly averted his eyes, he could she nothing else but his brother's pale face.

"My lady," He tried again, and this time she stopped sobbing, apparently listening. Lips thin, he placed a on her shoulder, "He would not want you to grieve so."

"What about you?" She whispered, sniffling, "He was your brother, wasn't he? You act as though it does not bother you that he lays before you, lost to the world."

Tarmikos ran his fingers through his tangled, silver hair, shutting his eyes against the glare of the snow, "Believe me, Iaurtondariel. Seeing him like this is not exactly my idea of a good day. However, we must think of our own safety as well. The wargs may return, and we are at risk of frostbite if we continue to sit like this."

"So what are we going to do?" The elleth asked, almost harshly, as the prince struggled to his feet. Even still, the Muru felt the world spin around him as he stood; it felt as though all of the muscles in his legs had turned to jelly, and he soon found himself falling back to the ground. A sharp pain shot up his spine, eliciting a strangled yelp and sending him falling onto his back. Iaurtondariel's worried eyes bored into him, but he did not meet her gaze.

"Are you alright?" She asked hesitantly after a brief moment of silence. The prince willed his breathing to slow, waiting for the pain to subside. When it had reduced to nothing but a small throbbing, he shook his head.

"I don't know. I think I am just winded from that fall." There was no response from Iaurtondariel, so the Muru slowly sat up. The pain had gone, but now he feared what would happen should he stand again.

"Maybe you shouldn't move, Tarmikos," She said softly.

"And then what? Sit here until someone comes to look for us?" He shot her a look that was more snappish than he intended, "Sorry to disappoint you, my lady, but everyone believes we are in Banemera; they're not looking for us."

Iaurtondariel huffed, "I see now why you and Jocikah are so perfect for each other: both of you have a negative outlook on life."

The mentioning of the lady set a firm frown on his lips, and he glanced at the elf sharply, "What do you mean? What did she say?"

"She said that she…never mind." The elleth looked away quickly and returned her attention back to Ricamros. Tears began to spring from her eyes again as she took in his appearance, but Tarmikos watched her with a suspicious eye.

"What did Jocikah say, Iaurtondariel?" He prodded.

"Nothing important." Was her curt reply. The prince opened his mouth to speak again, but the elf beat him to it, "You say we need to leave, right? So can you just transform into a dragon again?"

He gave her a dry smirk, saying, "You may not have noticed, but my arm isn't currently in good working condition."

"Then it should be no problem; your arm is broken, not your wing." When an annoyed glare se elf upon the prince's face, Iaurtondariel couldn't help but give him a smug smirk, despite the sorrow in her heart.

A moment later, a towering, silver dragon stood before the elleth, its scales shining so brightly in the snow that they nearly blinded her. A ring of smoke puffed out of his nostrils, and one leg was curled awkwardly underneath his broad chest, but it did not take away from his majestic appearance. Apparently having noticed her amazement, the dragon snorted and its wings sprang open with a snap, the wind it created nearly knocking her off her feet. There was a rumbling in his chest, like laughter.

Smoothing out her soaking clothing, she glared up at him, "I don't understand how you can be so cheerful. Must I remind you again of what has happened to-" The elleth never completed her sentence, for her breath suddenly hitched in her throat, bringing about yet another wave of tears. She fell to her knees at Ricamros' knees, her shoulders shaking. Tarmikos' thick tail brushed aside the deep snow as he watched her, his sapphire eyes glistening.

In a deep voice, he said, "I do not mourn yet, my lady, for it would seem I was eager for my brother to pass on to the other world while he still clings to the one he calls home."

It took a moment for his words to sink in, and when they did, Iaurtondariel's head snapped up suddenly, her soggy tresses flying about her face. There was look of disbelief spread across her face, and Tarmikos could not help but smile.

"What do you mean?" She asked slowly, carefully. Tears glistened at the corners of her eyes, waiting to slip down her wind stung face.

The dragon shifted awkwardly on its hinds legs, and Iaurtondariel noticed that he seemed to be having difficulties standing. She frowned, about to question him about it, but he spoke first.

"There is a reason Ricamros is one of our army's most valuable units. For as long as I can remember, he has been regarded as the 'perfect Muru', the ideal example of our race. I never believed it, of course," He added quietly, snorting and shaking his head as a dog would, "It had been many years since we have had a case such as he, for his spirits had aligned perfectly, complimented each other. It's difficult to explain, for I never understood it myself," He cast a glance towards to elleth to see if he still held her attention. Her brow was furrowed in confusion, but he didn't blame her.

"'Spirits'?" She repeated, "How could he have two?"

"The spirit of the creature that possesses him- the fox, as you know- and the spirit of the ruler of that creature; I think his name was Shiha-something or other." He tossed his head, "I don't really know the names of them all."

When he looked back down at her, the rumbling in his chest returned, "Don't worry about it; I don't understand it either. Just hop on, I'll get Ricamros up here, and then we'll look for Jocikah."

Nodding uncertainly, Iaurtondariel rose to her feet slowly and approached the silvery dragon. He nudged her up gently with his snout, then turned to pick up his brother by the collar and place him carefully in front of the elleth. Her arms immediately went around his waist to support him as his head lolled back onto her shoulder. The coldness of his body frightened her, not knowing if it was the cold of the snow or of death. Shutting her eyes tightly, silent tears continued to fall as she buried her face into his shoulder.

Tarmikos watched them silently for a moment before raising his mighty wings and propelling them off the ground. He clamped his jaws shut to prevent the roar from escaping his throat when the familiar pain erupted in his legs. The first thought he had was that the same thing had happened to him as his brother, but forced the idea away; he could still stand up, something that could not be done if his own back was broken, but the fear still nagged at the back of his mind.

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"Espenshade, you must relax," The woman consoled, balancing the young babe on her hip while tenderly stroking the other girl's fair hair, "He will be here shortly."

"Of all times for that fool to be gone, he chooses now!" The woman exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. The other shot her a warning glance, but it went unnoticed by the Muru.

With a harried sigh, Espenshade forced herself to sit down on a handmade chair, then nearly cried out in surprise when the chair rocked backwards. The woman chuckled lightly, but said nothing about it. The Muru listened as the elf made her way across the room, sitting in a chair opposite her. The babe giggled bubbly as he wrapped his fingers around his mother's dark hair, tugging lightly. Throughout this, the Muru's eyes were fixated on the gentle scene as her mind drifted off into what could have been, but never was fated to be.

"Are you alright, Espenshade?" The elleth asked softly, drawing the Muru out of her reverie. She smiled quickly with a nod.

"Yes, I'm just thinking."

The elf frowned slightly, drawing her child closer, "You don't have any hard feelings towards him, do you? For what he did…"

"Of course not!" Espenshade laughed, almost startling the elleth, "No matter what he or any other may believe, what happened to Daeron was no one's fault but Elinyro's." When the elf continued to watch her dubiously, she smiled softly, "Don't let it bother you, Ethiriel."

A door on the other side of the room swung open lazily to reveal a yawning ellon with a weather-stained, grey tunic slung over his shoulder. His dark undershirt had only been partially fastened, and his hair was disheveled in such a way that it appeared he had just been in a tussle, rather than having just got out of bed. Were it not for her anxiousness, Espenshade may have laughed at the less-than-regal ellon; instead, she merely leapt into a rant as soon as he took a step into the room.

"It is about time you get your lazy bum out of bed, Nendir!" The elf blinked tiredly at her, eyes still blurry. The Muru rolled her eyes, "Just get your shirt on, elf; I need your help."

"Perhaps we could just," He interrupted himself with a loud yawn, "Talk about what ever it is later? Rissien and Aerogaladhad have kept me up all night with their whining and crying and shouting and-"

"I believe you are mistaking them for yourself, my dear," Ethiriel cut in with a soft laugh, "Must I remind you of your oh so pathetic state last night? If I remember correctly, I return from collecting berries in the forest to see you sprawled in the middle of the floor, crying like a baby, as the children cause mischief elsewhere in the house." The elleth's smile turned into a mischievous smirk when he shot her a foul glare.

"I don't recall."

"Although I find this particularly entertaining," Espenshade hurried to interrupt them before they went on another one of their tangents again, a habit that they had developed somewhere between constructing their home and raising the former prince's sister, "I would like to discuss what I came here for, if you don't mind."

A little less groggy now, Nendir slipped his tunic over his head, ran his fingers quickly through his hair, and took a seat, drawing a giggling Aerogaladhad into his lap. Immediately, her plump fingers wrapped around his fingers, oblivious to the words being spoken. However, after ten minutes had passed, the child began to notice her seat growing tense, and she looked up at him with confusion in her odd eyes.

"Ada?" She murmured, tugging on his hands. Startled out of his reverie, the ellon looked down at the girl with a furrowed brow.

"_Nendir_, Aerogaladhad, _Nendir_. I am not your Adar." He corrected her gently, responding to her tugging by tickling her belly, eliciting a few giggles, "I'm your brother, alright?"

Again, she giggled, "Ada."

The elf sighed in frustration, but made no more attempts to correct her; she would understand one day. Instead, he simply smiled and patted her head.

"Nendir," Espenshade said, regaining his attention, "Will you help?" The ellon frowned now, looking down at the golden head of the elfling.

"I do not understand why you would come to me for help; I can't do anything about Adar's decisions, whether they be wise or ill-made. And if he is truly behaving as you say he is, I fear what his reaction would be were I to make a sudden return, considering the penalty of returning when one is banished." He gave the child one last pat before standing and letting her down gently to the floor, "As much as I wish I could help you, I am afraid there is nothing I can do."

"But they are your brothers!" Espenshade retorted hotly, leaping to her feet as well, "You will let them be imprisoned while you know the truth behind this?"

"Be grateful that is all he is doing, Espenshade. Although it may not seem like it, Ada still knows that they are his sons; were it anyone else who betrayed, as he calls it, the country, death would certainly be their punishment."

Aerogaladhad, who had grown silent during the explain, whimpered softly as Nendir headed towards the adjacent room. Before disappearing around the corner, the ellon cast a glance over his shoulder and said, "If you see her again, tell the elleth that I apologize for not being able to help her. It is a shame that I could never meet the lady that stole my brother's heart."

**XXXXX**

**ZOMGosh, itz NENDIR. GASP. Yea. Go elfy prince! Too bad he's turned into a grumpy ol' sourpuss. Hehe. Nah, he's still a squishy little elf boy. Just more mature, because hormonally driven Nendir is bad. And un-elflike, but we won't go into that. He became like that once they had their first kid, Rissien. Aw.**

**Anyway. The thing about Ricamros being a 'perfect' Muru will be better explained in later chapters, once Iaur gets curious. (That translates to, the author has no idea what it means either). For now, you'll just have to wait like good little readers. Ehem. Yes. Moving on. Oh, the title of this chapter is Spanish for 'two souls'. I just felt like being different. **

**I have a SURPRISE for you all! Manwathiel drew artz! Perty artz! Follow this link to my DeviantART page to see the wonderful picture I made! Hope y'all like it! Just remember to take out spaces. Curse for not allowing links! (But I do it anyway… nice.)**

**http :// www. deviantart. com/ deviation/ 56131588/**

**So… will Leggsinlass, Noruion, and Jaimea be saved? Will Nendir help them out? Will Tarmikos ever find out what the bajeezus is wrong with his legs? Will Manwathiel ever start updating more frequently? Well… we'll find out.**

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel**


	14. Piccolo Mondo

**I am so bored, and I am so tired of going to school. It's Monday night, Memorial Day, and I am absolutely dreading going to bed. I think it's a good sign that I'm ready for it to be over when I just sit around, trying to figure out ways to stay home. It worries me, actually. I'm afraid I'm going to lose my drive.**

**Anyway, let's get this chapter started.**

**ZOMGOSH ITALIAN TITLE TODAY. (Small World) **

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Chapter 14- Piccolo Mondo

"My lady, please, you must stay with us!" A frantic voice called, but was discarded without a thought, "My lady!"

For the umpteenth time that day, Glithiel growled under her breath and urged her spirited mare into a brisk canter. She shut her eyes tightly, willing the thundering of the horse's hooves to drown at the voices of her escorts. Her exposed hands stung from both the bitter cold and wind whipping at her skin, and they were stiff from grasping the animal's thick mane so tightly. Her dark hair and thick, blue cloak billowed out behind her, whipping about her body like a ghost.

Her lapse in attention allowed the others to catch up behind her, and they quickly surrounded her in a tight circle. She opened her jade eyes and cast a fiery glare upon the one beside her, who only smiled apologetically. Growling once more, she whispered a word to her horse and gradually slowed to a quick walk.

"Why do you keep me from reaching my home?" She demanded as soon as everyone had met her pace.

"Nórui would not like it if he found you to be harmed." One elf with sharp features replied simply from behind her. A fury welled up within her heart, and she snapped her head around to face him.

"You will not speak of him so informally." She spat bitterly, unconsciously tightening her legs around the mare's broad abdomen. It sighed heavily, but its discomfort went unnoticed by its rider.

The elf arched an eyebrow at her, "You know as well as I do that he has been found guilty of treason to the kingdom," She opened her mouth the retort, but he held one finger up abruptly to silence her, "And you, my dear, although still betrothed to him, no longer have the authority to command us in such a way."

"Leave her be, Tridhios," Another interrupted from the front. His face was much softer than the other elf's, but his tall build and deep eyes gave away his old age. Glithiel watched him shift his eyes to her, flex his fingers on his stallion's thick mane, then return his gaze to the other, "She is under enough pressure as it is; she does not need you to make it worse."

The elleth heard Tridhios scowl behind her, but didn't say anything else. A small smile had appeared on the elder elf's lips, but Glithiel did not return it; instead, she looked down to her fingers twisted in the horse's hair.

Four days ago, she had received a letter, stating that both Legolas and Nórui had been stripped of their titles and placed in the dungeons, but no other information had been given. Immediately furious, Glithiel had tried to leave the haven of her mother and father in Lothlórien, but the guards had stopped her before she ever reached the border. After a thorough explanation, she had been given permission to leave with a party of five other elves.

Now, all she could think about was what had gone wrong. Before she had left, all was well in Mirkwood, otherwise, she never would have gone. But she feared now what she would find when she arrived.

A shout from the front of the party drew her out of her thoughts, and she was surprised to find that the elves all had their weapons at the ready. Furrowing her brow, she asked:

"What is the matter?" When no one responded, again she said, "What do you see?"

"There is a woman not far ahead of us, laying in the snow, dressed in odd clothing," It was the elder elf who answered, "If I am not mistaken, the lady has hair of silver."

Glithiel's head popped up, her eyes wide, "'Silver'? Let me see." Ignoring the protests of her guards, the elleth pushed ahead of the ellyn and narrowed her eyes against the glare of the snow. Sure enough, a lithe figure was laying upon the ground, her silver hair haloed wildly about her shoulders.

The elleth clicked to her horse, which obediently padded forward at a trot; much to her annoyance, the group followed quickly behind her, ready to defend her if the need came. As she neared, worry and curiosity filled her eyes.

"Jocikah?" She called tentatively. During their brief stay in Mirkwood, Glithiel had very little interaction with that particular woman, and so was unsure if it was really the same person. Who else would have silver hair, she thought to herself as she dismounted, ignoring the protests of her guards.

Kneeling down, she placed a numb hand on the lady's shoulder and gave a gentle shake, "Jocikah? Are you alright?" For a moment, there was no response, and the elleth feared her to be dead. Biting her lip, she began to call her name again, but the one on the ground suddenly spoke.

"I'm fine," She answered hoarsely, "Just let me be."

"What happened? Where is everyone else?" Glithiel asked, scanning the horizon quickly to see if they were about.

"I don't know," The Muru answered softly, unable to look up at the elf. The elleth frowned, but remained silent as Jocikah continued to speak, "She left me behind in the mountains, and so I left without them. I thought that they would pass by this way, but I was correct in my assumptions: the two of them have died."

A cold feeling crept up Glithiel's spine and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Unconsciously, her grip tightened on the lady's shoulder, "Who died?"

"Ricamros and…" Her voice faltered as her breath hitched in her throat, and she was soon reduced to tears. Glithiel watched her with uncertainty and sorrow as she lost her hold on her emotions, soon reduced to a crying heap on the hard ground. The elleth bit her lips tentatively, unsure of how to comfort the woman; although she never had the chance to become close to the Muruien herself, she still worried for their safety. She knew that an elleth traveled with them, one that her future husband had grown considerably close to, and it frightened her even more that Jocikah had made no mention of her. Was she the one that left her behind?

"You don't have to talk about it," She said softly, "How about we get you back to Mirkwood, and we can decide what to do from there. Does that sound alright?"

Jocikah did not speak for a very long moment, in which Glithiel began to wonder if she had cried herself to sleep. However, the Muru suddenly pushed herself to her knees. Sniffling, she wiped the tears from her eyes with a frosted sleeve and fussed with her hair to keep it behind her ears.

"What if they come back? I need to wait for them." Her voice shook with the threat of another wave of tears.

"If they are even alive, it is not likely they will pass this way." She struggled to pull the woman to her feet, then looked around at her expectant party, "Will one of you take her? We must take her to our home as quickly as possible."

"I will do it," One said immediately and without hesitation; much to her displeasure, Glithiel recognized the voice as Tridhios. She studied the elf's features for a long moment, wondering what had caused him of all people to volunteer for the job. His raven black hair was tousled about his pale face, clinging to his sharp cheekbones and over his narrow, grey eyes. His thin lips were twisted to one side in a small smirk, and when he noticed her examining him, he revealed two rows of straight, white teeth. Brushing away an errant strand of hair, he arched one eyebrow, as if asking her a question.

A scowl crossed over the elleth's face, and she glared at him suspiciously, "What makes you want to take her?"

"I simply wish to assist the lady," He answered smoothly. His horse shifted beneath him and he instinctively adjusted his position, but never broke his gaze with the elf, "Well?"

Glithiel opened her mouth to protest, but Jocikah's weak voice beat her to it, saying, "I don't mind, my lady. I would rather wait here, but if you insist."

A triumphant grin spread across Tridhios' lips at the woman's words, and promptly dismounted. Glithiel glowered as he approached and, with a gentle smile that nearly made the elleth sick, wrapped his arm around the Muru's waist and led her away. In one swift motion, he had her up on his restless stallion and had placed himself behind her. He shot the elf one last smirk before clicking to his horse and starting off at a brisk walk.

"I don't know about you," He shouted over his shoulder, "But I am about tired of this cold! Let's pick up the pace, shall we?"

As the others slowly began to follow after him, Glithiel scowled as she remounted her horse and gave it a sharp jab in the ribs. It nickered in protest, but continued only at a slow trot. The elf heard the clip-clapping of hooves beside her, but she did not need to look up to see that it was the elder elf who had protected her before.

"You do not need to worry," The ellon said, "He will take good care of her."

"That is not what I worry about," She replied bitterly. The elf exhaled tiredly through his nose.

"You should not speak so harshly of your family."

"He is only a distant cousin, my lord; I have no kind thoughts of him."

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Whether it was the sound of wind whistling past his sensitive ears or the chattering of Iaurtondariel's teeth that was beginning to irk him, Tarmikos wasn't sure. Whatever it was, he wanted desperately for it to stop so that he wouldn't find himself exploding from aggravation. When the chattering seemed to increase, he was sure that he had found the reason his irritation.

"Iaurtondariel," He said loud enough to be heard over the wind. He turned his head slightly to the side, keeping one eye on the path ahead of him, "Are you awake back there?"

"Y-Yes," She answered roughly, her eyes shut tightly. Her lips had turned a pale blue in color, and her cheeks were flushed bright read. Ice crystals had formed in her dark hair so that it now hung stiffly at her shoulders. Amused, the dragon noticed similarities between the elleth and a porcelain doll, but thought it better not to mention it to her.

"How about I attempt to explain that 'perfect Muru' business to you?" The corners of his mouth curved upwards, revealing a couple razor teeth, "Maybe you will understand our Ricamros a little better, and maybe even yourself."

Although the elleth seemed a little preoccupied with holding onto said Muru and the dragon at the same time, she managed to nod once. Chuckling lightly, Tarmikos tossed his giant head forward, scanned the ground one more time for any signs of Jocikah, then began to speak.

"The Muruien race has never been very prominent in history, however long we have existed. It was started by a pair of elves, one who had remained behind and one of those who had seen the Light, and both of them possessed great magic that not even the eldest Muruien know. Together, they brought into the world ten children: five sons, five daughters. The sons were Rangi, Shiha, Agni, Aiolos, and Cáel, and the daughters were Priya, Medea, Mina, Shanta, and Aditi. Each were possessed by the spirit of a creature, and the magic of their parents combined to give them each their own unique power.

"As their influence spread, their magic became more diverse and, over a long period of time, became mixed. That is why a Muru may be capable of performing time travel, for example, and transforming into a bear; this means that they would have the spirits of Cáel and Aditi."

"What does that have to do with Ricamros?" Iaurtondariel interrupted a bit more harshly than she intended. The cold had begun to freeze her limbs, and she grew agitated with the stinging sensations on her face and hands. The elleth tried to send him an apologetic look, but her tightly clenched eyes probably gave it the appearance of a grimace. However it appeared, Tarmikos did not seem fazed by it, for he continued his explanation almost immediately.

"Ricamros is a perfect Muru because both of his spirits come from the same possessor: Shiha. He is capable of performing acts with almost as much power as Shiha himself; thus he is able to use his magic so precisely that it is difficult to discern whether it is him using it or if it is natural."

The Muru stopped, apparently finished, but Iaurtondariel found herself even more confused than before. Her brow furrowed as she said, "So… that means Shiha's magic was to pretend to be dead?" The familiar rumbling in Tarmikos' throat brought a small scowl onto the elleth's face.

"No," He said with a laugh, "Shiha's art was mimicry, and so Ricamros also has that art."

When a good long while passed without a word from the elleth, Tarmikos began to wonder if he had lost her again. He stole a quick glance up at her, returned his eyes ahead of him, and asked, "Do you understand?"

"I think so." She drawled out uncertainly. Another shiver shot down her spine, "So then who are my possessors? My dominant form is a fox and I can transport a few people across large distances at a time."

Tarmikos smiled, surprised at himself that he actually remembered these names; when he had learned about them in his studies, he was lucky if he could even name a couple of them, let alone their powers. Stretching one muscular leg out beneath him, he answered, "Well, Shiha, like Ricamros, and Aiolos, for transport."

"And you?"

"Aiolos and Shanta."

"Espenshade…?"

"Rangi and-"

"No, no, I mean, I think I see Espenshade!"

"_What?_"

Tarmikos suddenly took a steep dive down to lower altitudes, emitting a long screech from the elleth clinging desperately to his slick scales. The frost on her hair and clothing seemed to be brushed away by the wind rushing past them, and she could feel her grip slowly loosening on her mount and the Muru perched precariously before her. She was sure that she would fall when the Muru suddenly cut out of his drop and zipped off towards the east. Iaurtondariel's eyes watered when she tried to open her eyes.

Sure enough, a small dot on the horizon was steadily growing larger. A loud roar erupted from Tarmikos' throat, followed by a quick burst of flame. The elleth cringed when she was pulled along through it, the ends of her hair singeing and the remaining frost melting away from her body. A shrill screech met the elf's ears, and before she knew it, her mount was making large circles around a large, golden falcon.

Iaurtondariel blinked in surprise when she noticed a rider perched comfortably on the back of the large bird, staring up at the dragon in awe. The hood of a thick cloak was drawn up on his head, concealing his hair, but as soon as the elleth's eyes met his, her heart leapt in her chest; she knew those eyes.

"Nórui?" She called, watching him with a small grin. His brow furrowed as he looked up at her, and she felt her hopes dwindle.

"Do you speak of the Crown Prince of Mirkwood?" He asked her. His voice was strong and powerful, yet she could sense the uncertainty in them. That only proved to make her less confident.

"Yes," She said.

The man pulled his hood down suddenly, letting lose his mahogany hair to billow wildly out behind him as the falcon he rode continued to circle about the dragon. When he spoke, his voice was softer, and Iaurtondariel was sure that she had to be looking upon her friend, "How you do know my brother?"

**XXXXX**

**Uh oh. What's gonna happen now? I don't know why I said, uh oh. Oh well. Yay!**

**I had so much fun coming up with all the Muruien names and powers and whatnot. Believe it or not, I actually **_**organized**_** them! Yes, that's right. They aren't just random names- they will actually be consistent! Yay! **

**And ZOMGOSH I have only five more (school) days until summer vacation! I'm so HAPPY! I'm going to be a senior next year! I can't believe it. I still remember my first day of kindergarten. Gasp! How time flies… **

**Well, this chapter is a little longer than some of the others, so that's nice, right? And finally, things are starting to piece together. No more random flying willy-nilly all over Middle Earth. Whoopee! Oh, and is there anyone else who likes Tridhios? Because for some reason, I really liked him as soon as I typed his name for the first time. And don't worry, he isn't a prominent character. Yet. I said Ricky and Tark wouldn't be prominent, but look at them now. All high and mighty in the sequel. Boohaha. Anyway, thanks for reading!**

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel **


	15. A Little Swim

**Guess who's out of schoooool! That's right, ME! Bwahaha! This is going to be my LAST SUMMER because next year, I'm going to be a senior in high school! Boo yah! And I'm already getting applications for college! Yee! So happy! **

**Okay, now that we're on a happy note, let's see if I can transfer some of the happy note to the chapter. (Haha, that's funny…) **

**XXXXX**

Chapter 15- A Little Swim

His _brother_? Iaurtondariel found herself unable to speak for a long moment as she gazed down at the elf. She racked her mind, trying to remember what his name was. Before arriving to Banemera, Nórui had spoke briefly, though fondly, of his older brother, but had said that he had left Mirkwood many years ago and had not seen him since. Now that he had reappeared- and was heading in the direction of the forest no less- the elleth wondered what his intentions were.

"He is a friend of mine," She finally answered. She started and grappled to keep hold of the dragon when he touched down with a rumble. The elf's matted hair fell about her eyes as she slid off, landing in an ungraceful heap on the hard ground. Much to her chagrin, she saw the ellon easily slide off his mount and land on his feet.

"Are you Glithiel?" He asked, looking at her strangely; she certainly didn't have the grace of an elf, judging by her dismount. However, he never acknowledged her answer once he noticed the still body still laying on the dragon, "What happened to him?"

Iaurtondariel's eyes shifted to Ricamros as he was gently placed upon the ground by Tarmikos. In a flash of light, the Muru returned to his normal form, although looking a little worse than he had before. He flashed the elleth a small grin, then fell back onto his back, panting heavily.

When the elf looked back to the ellon, there was worry in her eyes, "We were in the mountains, and a pack of wargs attacked us unawares. He and his brother fell from a precipice, but he did not come out unscathed- we believe his back to be broken."

A shuffling behind the two elves alerted them of Espenshade's scrambling to get to her brothers' sides. Whisperings of a strange tongue met their ears as she leaned over Ricamros, tears already forming in her eyes. Nendir watched on in confusion, then looked to the elleth for an explanation.

"They are her brothers." She said softly. Sympathy rose up in the ellon's eyes as he gazed upon them, but he spoke no word of it to them or to the elleth. Uncomfortable in the silence between them, Iaurtondariel asked, "You are Nendir, correct?"

The elf smiled, "Yes. May I be so bold as to ask your name? You are not familiar to me."

"I am Iaurtondariel. Nórui and I met not long ago, so I do not expect you to have any memories of me." Remembering what the Crown Prince had told her, she asked, "Why do you travel in the direction of Mirkwood? Do you have intentions of returning there?"

A dark shadow passed across the former prince's face as he turned his emerald eyes to the distant border of the forest, "Have you not heard? Trouble stirs in the palace, and I fear my brothers have landed themselves in something that they won't be able to escape from. I am going to help them in any way that I can."

Her fears now confirmed, an unbidden sense of pride welled up in the elleth's chest, though it was immediately replaced with worry and unease. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she couldn't help her restless hands from pulling at her sleeves as she asked, "Do you know what exactly happened?"

"It seems old grudges can never die," He began, "And evil can never truly leave. It appears my father is under the impression that there is another guilty of killing my mother, and that person would be a lady by the name of Jaimea. Do you know her?"

Iaurtondariel swallowed hard, her eyes wide, "Yes."

Nendir kneaded his forehead with his fingers tiredly, "Legolas and Nórui suffer nearly the same fate I do- stripped of their titles and thrown into the dungeons."

"What will you do?"

"I am not sure yet, as there is little I can do without having to enter the palace itself. I was banished under the pain of death if I should return, so I am not exactly eager to wander about the corridors." He answered, tugging lightly on his hair.

"Oh," Was her calm answer, however, her heart and mind were raging like a whirlwind as fear, worry, and shock passed across her features. She wondered what had caused the king to do this to them, even after they had saved his life, for she deemed him reasonable, even likeable, upon meeting him. A thought occurred to her that maybe another Muru was at work, but it seemed improbable- the company had proven their strength, and she was confident enough to believe that they would not interfere again.

But more than anything else, even the safety of Legolas and Jaimea, she feared what would happen to Nórui. He was her closest friend throughout the entire event, and had helped lead her to Ricamros, and so could not imagine anything happening to him.

Nendir watched curiously as emotions flickered past the elleth's eyes and he began to wonder at her relationship with the three elves. How close were they, and how did their meeting come to pass? However, having lived a secluded life, his eagerness for knowledge had dimmed, and the interest to know these things about her vanished almost as soon as it came.

"Perhaps you can help me," He said suddenly, drawing her out of her daydream. She looked upon him like a deer startled by a hunter, but quickly recovered.

"What would you like me to do?" She asked immediately. The ellon smiled at her enthusiasm, then continued.

"I will need assistance in freeing them, as I cannot help them all at once. My main priority is to free Lady Jaimea first- she is at more risk than they are. I would like you to take care of Nórui and Legolas for me. However, I will avoid at all costs the chance of-"

"_What_?!" Espenshade suddenly cried, unintentionally breaking out of her own language. Tarmikos sent her a scathing glare, then looked cautiously over her shoulder to see the two elves watching them expectantly. Iaurtondariel opened her mouth to ask what the matter was, but a gentle touch from Nendir on her shoulder stopped her and he shook his head.

"Come," He said softly, "Let them be for a moment; we will discuss elsewhere."

The Muruien watched silently as the two elves departed and disappeared out of sight before they began speaking again. Immediately, Espenshade rounded on her brother with a fire in her eyes.

"Is he mad? This will surely kill him in the state that he is in!"

"You think I don't know that?" Tarmikos muttered bitterly, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands until colors exploded before them, "But it also may be his only chance."

"How do you reason that? Shiha's spirit will consume him completely like this, leaving nothing but an empty shell behind," She glared reproachfully at him, "Tell me, would you prefer to know that though he may no longer be able to walk, he is alive and happy, or would you rather him lay in bed the rest of him days, unable to even remember who he is? Or worse?"

"I think, either way, the result will be the same- one of us must despair in the end," He paused to brush away the silvery strands of his brother's face away from his closed eyes, "He will be forced to stay behind and watch the others defend our city, but we will be happy because he is alive. Or we will mourn for him while he is happy with Mother and Birih in a better world. Which would you prefer?"

"I do not believe we should make any decisions until we know what he wants. That is, if he manages to pull himself out of this in time." The Muru looked down at her unconscious brother for a long time, her face twisted into a mixture of a frown and scowl, "I cannot believe he would resort to this."

"He would not if he feel that he did not need to; you should not doubt his judgment."

Espenshade sighed softly, stroking Ricamros' brow, "I hope he will be alright."

Both Muruien started in surprise when there was a soft chuckle from the Muru on the ground, a small smile spreading across his lips. His eyes glanced back and forth between them with amusement dancing in their depths. Neither could speak a word as they stared down at him, almost afraid to believe that he was actually awake.

Finally, he spoke, though his voice was lethargic and rough, "You speak as though I am on the brink of death."

"You may not have been then, but you are now for keeping us worrying like that!" Espenshade hissed, fighting the urge to smack him. He grinned lightheartedly as his eyes shut, and he fell silent.

The two watched him for a long moment, waiting for him to speak again, but when the grin faded and he did not speak, they feared that he had retreated back into his dormancy. Heart suddenly racing, Espenshade shook his arm roughly as Tarmikos called out his name.

"I'm still here," He said lightly after a moment, cracking one open slightly and then closing it again, "Just resting."

"Can you feel your legs yet?" Tarmikos asked suddenly, disregarding the consequences which his question might have. Espenshade shot him a warning glance, but Ricamros seemed to genuinely think about the question, his face scrunching in concentration.

A soft sigh escaped his lips but he said nothing; that was enough answer for them.

"Where is Iaurtondariel?" He asked quietly, and Tarmikos leapt up.

"I will fetch her for you," He said, hoping to amend for his mistake. Without another word from either brothers, he sped off in the direction the two elves went, leaving Ricamros and Espenshade together.

There was comfortable silence between the siblings for a long moment as they listened to the sounds of the birds singing and crickets chirping. Idly, Espenshade intertwined her fingers with her brother's, and was pleased to feel him squeeze her hand. She looked down at him when he shifted and saw that his eyes had opened.

"I wish to speak to you about something." He said.

"Anything." She answered encouragingly, smiling. He attempted to return it, but it soon faded from his lips.

"You must not be angry with me, and you must agree to do what I say if it comes to it."

Espenshade nodded, albeit a little hesitant, "Of course."

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The broken, black specks that were the forest of Mirkwood on the horizon had quickly turned into a solid line of dark trees and brambles. The small group had made all haste after they had made their decisions concerning the imprisoned elves, although they felt that no matter how fast they may travel, they would not make it in time.

Ricamros' reawakening had brought some relief, and Iaurtondariel was ecstatic to see him well, but shortly after they had taken to the air again, he succumbed to darkness again. Though saddened that they would not be able to speak with him, it brought encouragement.

However, despite this, the shadow on Espenshade's face could not be shaken. All had questioned her for her dark demeanor, but she refused to give them an answer that they did not have to puzzle over. So eventually, they accepted defeat and let her mull over her own thoughts, though they were sure to keep a careful eye on her. Nendir's escalating tension as they drew nearer to the forest did not help soothe matters much.

When they touched down, the ellon was quick to take control of the situation, soon determining that they were on the eastern border, giving them less than half a day's walk if they were quick.

"What about my brother?" Tarmikos called as Nendir drew his hood over his head. The elf looked over his shoulder at the Muruien, then said, "You and Iaurtondariel stay here. I will take Espenshade with me and we will find my idiotic brothers."

"Wait a moment," The elleth interrupted as the female Muru dropped her pack beside her brothers, "You said I could help you!"

"That is correct," The former prince said matter-of-factly, "_After_ we get them out of the dungeons."

Iaurtondariel narrowed her eyes, "That was not in the agreement."

"Neither was your direct assistance in freeing my brothers."

"I have every right to help you! You said yourself that you didn't even want to _help_ in the first place."

"My family's safety is always first priority, my lady, and I do not wish to drag another into this," He tightened his belt at his waist, gingerly fingering the hilt of his blade before he glanced side-long at her. She held an expectant glare in her eyes, eliciting an aggravated sigh from the elf, "Minds sway with proper persuasion."

"And what would this 'proper persuasion' consist of?"

"That, my lady, is none of your concern." And with that, he disappeared into the thick brush, visible only for brief seconds when the sunlight caught on the sheath of his sword.

Iaurtondariel growled in irritation as she spun around, cloak twisting between her legs, and stormed over to the Muruien princes' sides. She plopped down with a huff, ignoring the chuckle from Tarmikos. A gentle pat on her shoulder only served to deepen her frown.

"Do not worry, Iaurtondariel,' Tarmikos said, "He will be back with them before you know it, safe and sound."

"It would be better for him never to return."

"Don't speak of Prince Nendir in that fashion," Espenshade retorted as she approached them, her eyes narrowed, "You do not know what it took for him to come here, what risks he had to take. Nendir has a child of his own whom he loves more than life itself, and would not want him to grow up without a father. He chose me not out of spite for you, but because he knows that I will do all in power to aide him."

The elleth was obviously not content with this answer, for the annoyed stare never left her eyes. The Muru rolled her eyes heavenward, "Just give him time, and he will open up to you as well."

"After speaking to me that way, I don't think he deserves that time," Standing up, she tossed her pack to the ground and marched towards the forest. Much to her surprise, neither Muruien made any signs of stopping her, and so she continued forward without another word.

When they were sure she was out of earshot, Espenshade sat beside her brothers and looked forlornly down at Ricamros, tracing her fingers along his brow. Tarmikos looked up at her, a small frown marring his features.

"What troubles you?" When she did not answer, he continued, "Was it something he told you?"

Inhaling sharply, she nodded.

"Will you tell me?"

"Not all," She answered, her voice cracking. The other Muru placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, waiting for her to speak. After gaining control of her emotions, she said, "He told me that his wounds are worse than he originally thought, and they stretch further than just a broken back. He believes that there is something wrong inside of him, but he couldn't place what it was."

"Can you not just heal him? You have the power to do so."

"I know."

After a brief pause of careful speculation, Tarmikos leaned back and trailed his hands up into his hair, "He told you not to, didn't he?" Again, she refused to answer. Sighing softly, the Muru prince shut his eyes in thought, "Are you going to stop Iaurtondariel?"

"No," Espenshade answered, "If she wants to help, let her help. There are more pressing things on my mind than fixing another one of their mistakes."

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The entire trek through the forest, Nendir was so on edge that even the slightest snap of a twig sent him sprawling to ground, his eyes darting back and forth as he searched for the danger. So far, he had encountered a young deer with bright, curious eyes, and a black squirrel that was late in foraging for the winter. A falling branch in the distance nearly sent him running back to the border of the forest, but he was able to contain himself.

However, he was concerned more so by the fact that Espenshade never came after him, and yet he had a nagging feeling at the back of his mind that something was watching him. He rested uneasily after a couple hours of navigating the thick brush, and had been on edge the entire time with his hand on the hilt of his sword. He had no true intentions of harming anyone were they to chance upon him, but there were worse things in the trees than elven scouts.

The elf came upon the river, and though it was still present, he had forced away the uncomfortable feeling. Spirits raised now that he was in more familiar area, he trekked happily yet carefully along its banks- he himself had never felt the effects of touching the water, and now was certainly not a good time to try it. He was about to stop and rest for a bit to determine his position when the feeling came suddenly at strong force, but it felt even more threatening than it had before.

Leaping to his feet while drawing out his glinting blade, his emerald eyes scanned the dark tree tops, awaiting what may appear out of the shadows. His sharp eyes could find nothing out of the ordinary, but his ears told him differently.

Whipping around, he spotted on the opposite bank a giant, rancid creature creeping through the branched, long, spindly legs groping for a hold. A fat abdomen threatened to pull the creature from the trees, giving it a clumsy appearance, but it defied these notions by suddenly leaping to a larger tree without much difficulty.

Nendir scolded himself for forgetting about the increasing threat of spiders in the forest, but wondered at its close proximity to the palace. It seems that the scouts would have quickly dispatched the beast before it even came within their own boundaries, unless it somehow slipped beneath their watch. Unless there were simply no elves to guard, it seemed impossible.

The spider made a hissing-like noise, blowing putrid breath in the elf's face. He gagged, fighting the urge to retch, but covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve. It continued to advance, clicking its mandibles together, as its glaring eyes stared down its prey.

Stepping back instinctively, the elf thrust his sword forward, "Stay back, vile creature, and I will not have to acquaint you with my own sting!"

The creature made a laugh-like hiss, then said, "Sssting, he says? How ssscary, the elf has a sssting!" It laughed again as it crawled slowly down to the ground, "What does he sssay to comparing our ssstings, eh?"

A thread of silk suddenly shot from the spider, attaching itself to a tree only a few feet from the ellon. Swallowing hard, Nendir flexed his grip on his hilt as he watched the creature leap from one side of the bank to the other with no hesitation. His hope faltered- he had never seen a spider this massive before. It landed with a thud, and for a moment the elf thought that the fall had killed the spider when it didn't move, but it suddenly lifted its body from the ground and fixed its hungry eyes on his body.

"This is your last chance!" He shouted again as the spider slowly advanced. Nendir tried to hide the shaking of his arm, but his wavering voice betrayed him, "Return to your lair, and I shall forget that we ever crossed paths."

"Too late for that, Elf Sssting!" And the creature leapt again, thrusting its heavy body in the air with its creeping legs stretched forward. Nendir scrambled to get away as it landed only feet from where he stood. The black thing stank of dead flesh and sulfur, and one of its back legs appeared to be twisted to the point where it was useless. Saliva dripped off its mandibles, landing in large puddles at its feet. Again, Nendir fought the urge to retch.

The spider struck suddenly, thrusting its stinger forward, but the elf narrowly dodged it, rolling off to the side and barely avoiding falling into the water. Hissing menacingly, the creature came at him again and again, making sure to never give him a chance to lash out with his own attack.

Nendir grunted in pain when he was, once again, swatted to the ground on his belly, losing his sword in the process. He scrambled to regain his feet, but the heavy weight of the beast's claw came down on his shoulder blade, emitting a sharp yelp of pain. Its yellowed talon ripped his already soiled tunic, piercing into his skin. The ellon felt his eyes haze at the excruciating pain, but nothing was more painful than the sudden screech from the spider. Immediately, the weight lifted and he forced himself to his feet.

The elf quickly regained his sword, and when he turned around to face his attacker, he was both amazed and furious to see an elleth upon the creature's back with only a thick branch shoved into its abdomen. The spider continued screeching and hissing as it fumbled on the ground, its legs giving out from underneath of it. The elf on its back struggled to hold onto her makeshift weapon, but was soon cast aside and landed hard on the ground.

Forgetting the elleth for the moment, Nendir was quick to resume the attack and finish off the creature. Approaching cautiously the hysterical spider, he ducked when one of its legs swung above his head before rushing forward and driving his sword into its neck. Its scream came out as a strangled gurgling noise, and black blood spurted from the wound and down Nendir's arms. Grimacing, he pulled the blade away and leapt out of the way just as the creature's massive body fell to the ground in a heap.

Breathing heavily, Nendir watched the spider's lifeless body to be sure it was dead, then let his sword slip to the ground. His emerald eyes trailed up to the stick still in its back, then over to the elleth who had just sat up and was rubbing the back of her head.

His first reaction was to yell at her and question her, but instead, he just fell to the ground with a grunt. Raising a blackened hand to his head, he massaged his forehead tiredly, "Any particular reason you disobeyed my orders, interrupted my fight, and proceeded to get yourself nearly killed?"

A fiery glare was her first answer, followed by, "Any particular reason you are unbelievably arrogant, hardheaded, and chauvinistic?"

Smirking, he said, "Not really, no."

Iaurtondariel growled under her breath as she rose to her feet, "I don't even know why I tried to help you! I should have let you be killed by that…" She paused, her lip curling in disgust as she glanced at the withered spider, "Thing."

"I know why." He stated. The elleth raised a brow.

"Oh, really?"

"It is because you care for my brother and would not want to see him saddened by my passing," He answered, smiling slightly. Iaurtondariel wasn't sure whether or not he was being sincere or trying to be an arse, but she decided for the latter.

"It has nothing to do with Nórui!"

"I was referring to Legolas."

Iaurtondariel opened her mouth to speak, but stopped short when she registered the trap he had led her into. The growing grin on his lips brought a heated glare to her eyes as her fists clenched at her side.

"You, _my lord_, are a pompous-"

"No need for compliments, _my lady_," He said, wiping his arms on the grass before standing up. Stretching, he leaned back until he felt the pop in his spine before sheathing his sword and continuing on, "I suppose we have no choice now; you must come with me, whether I like it or not. You got your wish.

"However," He said as she began to follow him, "There are a few rules that you must follow. Only three, actually."

"I don't think you are in any position to demand me to do anything." She spat, but stopped short when he came to a halt and looked upon her with serious eyes.

"I do not jest this time," He said. Iaurtondariel didn't say anything, but made sure to keep the scowl on her face. Knowing he would not receive any better than that, he continued, "Rule one: You will enter the dungeons after me, and help my brothers only; no one else," He looked back to see if she understood. She nodded once.

"Second, after the three of them are together, you will not speak of my presence under any circumstances; Legolas and Nórui must not know that I was here. I will discuss this with Lady Jaimea as well.

"And thirdly, it will be your responsibility to lead them from the forest without detection. This, above all else, is most important, for you and them will be killed immediately. Them for escaping, and you for aiding in their escape. Understand?"

Although a little perturbed by the last rule, Iaurtondariel nodded slowly, "Yes, I can do that."

"Good," He said, smiling, then turned his back to her. Frowning lightly, the elleth followed at a short distance behind him. She then noticed the wound on his shoulder, and, despite the fact that she had a severe dislike of him, commented on it.

"Should you do something about your arm?"

Idly, his fingers drifted up to touch the area, but he shrugged, "It's just a flesh wound. Nothing to worry about." Iaurtondariel narrowed her eyes at him for reasons unknown, but she refused to walk in silence the entire time. There was already enough tension between them- at least, she thought there was- and had no intentions of prolonging it.

"So," She started after about ten minutes of walking. He didn't say anything, but she knew he was listening, "I find this odd, but why is your manner so different from your siblings? I mean no offense, of course, but the contrast puzzles me."

Although she couldn't see it, a fleeting gentle smile graced his lips, and he answered softly, "There was a time when we weren't that different. In the past twenty or so years, I've had dealings with the dwarves of Erebor, so perhaps their mannerisms have rubbed off on me. You are probably wondering why I would even mingle with them, correct?"

"I was curious, yes."

"Perhaps you remember the Battle of the Five Armies? It was not that long ago, however, I had left Mirkwood by that time," At her nod, he continued, "I was impressed by the dwarves' strength and will, and so I now lend my aide there to Dáin Ironfoot and his people when I may. I leave my family for a few months at a time- my wife would come with me until she conceived- and the dwarves supply me with enough materials and jewels to get by, and then I return home," He shrugged, "And such has been my life."

Simple questions such as these continued during the trip, and both were relieved to be getting along finally. Iaurtondariel wondered how long it would last before he decided to be arrogant again, but at now she had a reason. It still baffled her why he would wish to mingle with the dwarves. She herself had never seen one, but even growing up in such a secluded place could not keep the stereotypes and prejudice away.

Another hour later, the two found themselves nearing the palace itself. It didn't occur to the elleth, but uneasiness had permanently settled itself in Nendir's heart. Where were the guards, he kept asking himself. They should have been spotted long ago.

"Where do we go from here?" Iaurtondariel asked in a whisper as the bridge over the river came into view. The great doors loomed before them with nary a guard to protect it.

"We must get in, and then make our way towards the dungeons." He answered simply.

The elleth blanched, "And how do you expect to do that?"

Smirking, he said, "I grew up in this palace, my lady- trust me, there are more ways to enter than just the front gate," Turning away from her, he started off in another direction. Still smiling, he mischievously cast over his shoulder, "I hope you can swim."

**XXXXX**

**Well, sorry for the wait, but at least this one is a lot longer than usual! I wanted to get something out before I leave for Oregon, so here ya go. Yay! And for some reason, I'm very happy that I finally gave a general time period for this. I made it later than I originally wanted, but poor planning forced it upon me. Bad me. **

**I think if you really wanted to take the time to figure out the exact date, you only need one bit of information that seems entirely irrelevant: Aragorn was twenty two at the time of LIMM. That should tell you! Yep. **

**Anyway, I don't have much to say, other than that I was inspired to write the spider scene when I saw a spider skitter across my keyboard. Yay spider!**

**OH! Another thing! Does anyone out there have the LOTR Online game? If you do, lemme know so maybe we can play together! Yay! Okay, thanks for reading, everyone!**

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel**


	16. Unlikely Aide

**Well, here we are again, about to start another chapter. Not much to say at the moment, but I'm sure I'll have another novel for you to read at the end. Anyway, enjoy!**

**XXXXX**

Chapter 16- Unlikely Aide

With much trepidation, Iaurtondariel watched the retreating elf's back as he stealthily made his way through the thick trees and brambles. What did it matter if she knew how to swim? Biting her lip tentatively, she began after him, though did not speak another word to him.

After a good bit of walking, the sound of rushing water met the elleth's ears, and it suddenly began to click in her mind what the ellon had in store for her. A sense of dread washed over her body- although she did know how to swim, it definitely wasn't one of her favorite hobbies.

Finally catching up with Nendir, the elf was surprised to find a look of curiosity and defeat on his face. Raising one brow, she turned her attention on whatever had him transfixed, and asked, "What is the matter?"

He didn't reply for a moment, but when he did, he pointed towards the bank of the river and said, "What is Arda is _that_?"

Stalking along the water was a large, spotted creature with a tail that reached nearly the length of its entire body. It's lips were curled back in a snarl, and it hissed dangerously as it paced back and forth, its ears laid flat against its head. The animal looked entirely displeased, even going so far as to swat at a croaking frog on the bank, sending it soaring into the water.

While the former prince could only watch in confusion, a small smile had appeared on Iaurtondariel's lips. Chuckling softly, she ignored Nendir's shouts to return as she pushed through the bushes and towards the prowling animal.

The animal looked up quickly, halting in its steps as the elf approached, and its ears perked up. A low, pleased growl escaped its throat as it trotted towards her side, rubbing up against her legs and purring softly. Iaurtondariel smiled and laughed softly, stroking the beast's head and back. Throughout this whole display, Nendir could only stare in shock at the two apparent 'friends'.

Despite its ferocious attitude, the elf hesitantly clambered from his hiding spot and approached them slowly, trying to gain confidence from the elleth's assuring smiles. The cat's golden eyes gleaming curiosity at him didn't help matters much. He froze in his tracks, eliciting an amused chuckle from Iaurtondariel.

"Don't worry, she won't hurt you," The elleth said gently, scratching the animal behind the ears, "She is called a Komuned in the Muruien tongue, or ocelot in Westron. This particular one was given to Jaimea as a gift from Legolas, but now I wonder why she is out here and not inside."

Still eyeing the ocelot warily, Nendir leaned up against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest, "My father probably had her removed after sentencing Lady Jaimea to death. No wonder she appears angered."

Iaurtondariel nodded in agreement, and the ellon continued.

"But anyway, we should continue," He said, pushing himself away from the tree and hurrying past the two, "I do not want to have to come all this way, just to find out that the punishment has already been carried out."

This time, the elves trekked upriver in the direction of the palace again with the Komuned following just behind. As they neared, the elleth could feel the other elf's mounting tension, and she would constantly see him glancing back and forth wildly as if something would leap from the trees. She understood his concern, considering his circumstances, but it only made her feel more uneasy.

Everything made sense finally once they finally came to the base of the mountain where the river flowed underneath, leaving a small gap behind, hardly wide enough for an adult to slip under. The elleth stared wide eyed at the rushing water as the other elf began to unfasten his belt, allowing to drop to the ground, followed by his blood-stained tunic and undershirt. Immediately, Iaurtondariel's eyed shifted to the wound on his shoulder, and was alarmed to find it festering and enflamed.

"I thought you said it was only a flesh wound," She commented, dropping her belt to the ground as well. Nendir glanced briefly over his shoulder at her, then quickly looked away.

"'Tis nothing that you need concern yourself with." He answered, that familiar arrogance lacing his voice. The elleth narrowed her eyes.

"I refuse to allow you to enter that water while injured like that!"

Whipping around suddenly, the she elf was surprised and even frightened to see the fierce glare that had appeared upon the ellon's usually relaxed face. She took a small step back, struggling to keep her gaze steady with his, suddenly feeling much smaller than he.

"You forget who I am, and who you are as well," He said seriously, "I am not concerned with what that beast did to me, and so neither should you be. If I needed help, I would have asked for it."

His penetrating eyes now focused on the water, Iaurtondariel felt safe to send him an aggravated scowl. Crossing her arms haughtily, she watched him wade into the river until he was forced to tread water, then he suddenly disappeared underneath the surface. She half expected him to reappear a few feet down the river, unable to manage the rapid current, but unbidden worry crept up in her heart with every passing moment that he did not resurface.

Resting her arms at her sides, she tentatively called, "Nendir? Are you still there?" She received no answer, and she was about to shout his name again, but his head suddenly popped up from the water where he had disappeared, bringing about a relieved sigh from the elleth.

"Don't frighten me like that! I thought that you had-"

As if he did not even hear her words of concern, he raised one brow and said, "Are you coming or not?"

Iaurtondariel blinked owlishly at the elf for a long moment, wondering if he was serious or not this time. His other brow joined the other as the silence continued, waiting for her answer. He could sense her apprehension about entering the water, and he wondered at it, but for the moment it annoyed him more so than anything else.

"If you are worried about not being able to swim against the current, then I will be here to help you. You will not have to hold your breath long; the opening into the cellars is only a few feet away." He smiled, hoping to encourage her enough to boost her confidence. The smile grew into a grin when the elleth slowly took to the water, albeit awkwardly, until she, too, treaded beside him.

"Ladies first," He said, offering a charming grin. Iaurtondariel smiled weakly before taking a large breath and ducking under.

The elleth immediately felt the current tug at her body, threatening to drag her downriver, but a firm hold on her hand kept her in place. A powerful kick from the ellon carried them into the darkness of the short passageway so that even their sharp eyes could not see. The tunnel seemed to go on forever, and Iaurtondariel could feel a fire beginning to burn in her chest from lack of air. A strangled cry in her throat forced her mouth open, but instead of the frigid water, she inhaled a large gasp of muggy air.

Breathing heavily, the elleth threw her arms onto the stone floor of the cellars and rested her head tiredly on the ground. Beside her, she could hear Nendir effortlessly pull himself from the water, and he soon dragged her from the water as well.

"There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" He asked cheerfully, chuckling lightly. Wiping her clumped hair away from her eyes, she looked up at him with some hopelessness before sitting up on her knees. Again, he smiled at her and patted her on the shoulder, then started off towards a winding set of narrow stairs, "Come, we must be quick. The longer we linger here, the more tempting it will be for me to stay."

As they made their way up the stairs, Iaurtondariel began to realize why the other elf had bothered to remove his tunics: unlike her, he now had much less extra weight to haul around. The frigid water weighed down her clothing tremendously, making it much more difficult to carry on after him and his fast pace. Her sensitive skin had begun to chafe, leaving behind a sore, aching redness along the insides of her legs. She was about to shout for Nendir to slow down and allow her to rest, despite how much it would wound her pride, but he stopped so suddenly that she nearly crashed into him.

"What now?" She hissed in irritation, but he silenced her with his hand. He motioned for her to stay quiet, then slowly pushed open the door ahead of him.

Sunlight so bright that they had to shield their eyes filtered in through the crack in the doorway. Nendir peered through for a long moment, scanning the hall for anyone approaching, then slowly pulled it completely opening, signaling for her to follow.

As the former prince crept down the corridor, the elleth couldn't help but smile wryly. By way of water was definitely not the best alternative to the main gates, considering the painfully obvious track of wet footprints they would leave behind, however creative the entrance may have been.

After a while of walking and seeming to succeed only in going circles, Iaurtondariel voiced her concerns, "Are you sure you know where you are going? Or are you purposely dragging me along the longest path possible?"

"Forgive me for being a bit cautious, my lady," He spat back, "But you are not the one with banishment looming over your head."

The elleth narrowed her eyes, "Forgive _me_, prince, but-"

"Hush!" He hissed, stopping abruptly at a corner. Iaurtondariel immediately fell silent, but the glare did not fade from her face. Listening carefully, she could hear two voices, one male and the other female, engaging in an obvious angered conversation. Her eyes widened and her heart began to race when she was able to place one voice with a face: Thranduil.

"Who is he talking to?" Iaurtondariel whispered, and she had to wait a moment for an answer. When Nendir spoke, she could sense that he was smiling.

"Is it Glithiel," He answered, "I cannot believe she is still here. Valar, how she has changed."

"Now is not the time for reminiscence," She reminded him, but he seemed intent to ignore her. Much to her consternation, the elf raised his hands to his lips and set forth a shrill whistle.

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Thranduil sighed heavily in aggravation as he stormed down the corridor, trying his hardest to ignore the continuous rant of the elleth at his heels. She had arrived not even a day ago, and already she was getting under his skin, something that his soon-to-be daughter in law had rarely ever done in all the years that he had known her. However, at the moment, he was about to reach boiling point.

"I cannot believe you would do this to your own son!" Glithiel repeated for what must have been the hundredth time that day, "You know as well as I do that none of them had anything to do with what happened to the Queen!"

"Of course, they didn't," He hissed between his teeth, "But the lady assisted in her murder. By not telling me this information, my sons have betrayed me."

The elleth struggled to keep from screaming in sheer anger, "They would never do such a thing to their beloved father! You did not even offer them a trial."

"They do not deserve it," The king huffed, turning his nose to the air. He soon noticed that the pitter patter of the elf's light footsteps had seized, and, curious, he glanced over his shoulder to see that she had frozen in place with a determined expression on her features, her cheeks red in outrage.

"My betrothed _will_ receive a fair trial, no matter how ridiculous it may be. I will see to that."

Thranduil raised one brow, a haughty smirk curling the corners of his lips upwards, "Will you, now? Then how about I arrange a trip to the dungeons for yourself so that you may inform him of your intentions. And while you are down there, why not-"

A shrill whistle interrupted their argument, causing the king to glance around curiously. The elleth, however, had gone stark white, and her eyes were wide. Heart racing, she cast her gaze to the ground, "Excuse me, my lord."

"Wait a moment, Glithiel, what was…?" He never had the chance to finish, for her skirts had already disappeared around the corner. Thranduil snorted arrogantly, shrugged his shoulders, and cast off the thought without a care.

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Nendir grinned mischievously when a rather startled elleth shot around the corner, her head moving so quickly that he feared it may fall off. He repeated the whistle again, catching the attention of the elf, who then halted abruptly in her tracks when she laid eyes upon the exiled prince. Her mouth fell slack as the blood rushed from her face.

Chuckling lightly so as not to attract the attention of his father, he said, "Long time, no see, my lady."

"What are you _doing_ here?" Glithiel hissed, rushing forward the push him back down the direction they had come, "Of all times, you chose a bad moment to return!"

"I am aware, and that is what has brought me here." The ellon said solemnly. Glithiel frowned.

"Then you are even more of a fool," She replied, "You must return to wherever you have been living, and never come back."

Nendir chuckled again, "You are in an awful hurry to get rid of me; I didn't think I would be missed this much."

The former prince sensed hesitation in the lady for but a moment before he felt arms encircle him from behind, and a cheek pressed between his shoulder blades. A gentle smile passed across his lips when he heard soft sobs from the elleth as she cried against him.

"I have missed you so much, Nendir," She whispered as he turned around to face her. He cupped her cheek in his palm, gently brushing his thumb below her eye, wiping away the tears, "All of us have."

"I know."

"I apologize for interrupting the reunion," Iaurtondariel broke in, effectively turning their attention onto her, "But shouldn't we be getting about to our job?"

Nendir grinned, "Quite right, you are, my lady. However, I believe a clothing change is in order."

As if just realizing the state they were in, Glithiel jumped back from Nendir with a gasp, "What exactly have you two been up to? You're both completely soaked, and you're… topless, Nendir? Now, I am quite curious." The elleth stared them both up and down with her scrutinizing gaze, tapping her chin thoughtfully. Finally, she placed her hand on Iaurtondariel's shoulder with a gentle smile, "You may borrow some of my clothing, if you like. Nendir, I'm sure you are capable of finding your own." She cast him a mischievous smile, then began to lead the elleth down the corridor, "Just be careful!"

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Glithiel rung her hands anxiously as she followed along behind the two elves, now fully clothed and dry. She looked up at their backs, wondering if they actually knew what they were doing, or if they were simply relying on quick thinking and good timing. For all they knew, there could be guards there at that exact moment, and there would be no hope of getting around them. More and more as she thought about it, the elleth realized that this was generally the same manner of the Nendir she once knew, and so also realized that most of his plans would go awry.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" She asked, voicing her concerns.

There was a moment's hesitation before the exiled prince answered, "Of course, I do."

"You sound awfully convincing." The elleth muttered, earning herself a light chuckle.

"Trust me."

The entrance into the dungeons loomed before them, and the small group stopped before it with some uncertainty. The two ellith looked to each other, then to Nendir, waiting for what he would decide to do next. There was hesitation in his eyes, something that Iaurtondariel did not fail to notice, but she bit back the words that sprang to her mind.

Quietly, the ellon said, "You remember what I asked of you, Iaurtondariel?" She nodded once.

"Yes, I do."

"Then wait here." Were his last few words before disappearing down the winding corridor, darkness soon engulfing his body, and he was out of sight. The ellith watched the place where he had just been, as if waiting for him to reappear again suddenly.

"You should go," Glithiel said once she was sure Nendir was out of hearing range, "Hurry, and bring them up here before Nendir has a chance to escape without seeing them.

"But I promised-"

Glithiel cut her off, "I know you did," She said, "But I am sure that Nórui and Legolas would very much like to see their brother again."

There was apprehension in the elleth's eyes as she gazed upon the other elf, wondering what would be the best decision. She feared Nendir's anger if she did catch him in time- not that she would admit it, of course- but the desire to reunite them ignited within her for a moment, and that was all she needed to send herself plunging into the darkness.

The elleth had begun to believe that the stairs would never end, and she would continue to go round and round, further into the earth, until there was little hope of ever making it to the top. The walls seemed to close in around her, and the anxiety gnawed at her nerves the further she went. She longed to see the sunlight again, and was reminded painfully of her short stay in the mountains with the goblins. Iaurtondariel was about to rush back when the steps suddenly gave out beneath her, and she stumbled, caught unaware. Gazing around, she was relieved to see that torches had been lit along the passageways, ensuring a much easier trek through the dungeons.

Nendir's instructions came rushing back to her. _My grandfather had the place set up like a maze, so that only those who knew where they were going would be able to navigate._ The ellon had said, _Whenever given the option, choose left, always left. You will find them eventually. _

The word 'eventually' hovered in the elf's mind like an irritating gnat, never leaving her in peace, even as she followed the ellon's directions. After a while, she began to realize how easy it would be to get lost in the winding corridors and aisles, how identical they all were. She even began to doubt her own senses before she heard clanging off in the distance, accompanied by a voice.

"You know I don't like doing this," They had said with a hint of regret in their voice, "But it is the king's orders. I must follow them; you understand?" There was no reply from whoever he was speaking to, and he sighed.

Iaurtondariel's eyes widened when she saw the glow of a lantern slowly illuminating the corridor as he passed. Heart now racing, the elleth frantically searched for a place to hide, and had managed to squeeze into an opened cell just as the guard came into view. His brow was furrowed, and the light from his lantern cast deep shadows upon his face that made him appear older than he truly was. His sharp, grey eyes glanced about cautiously, before passing it off as nothing and continuing.

The sight of a set of keys attached to his belt made Iaurtondariel realize one fault in their plan: she had no way of getting the two of them out. Without any rational thought, the elleth lunged forward at the elf, wrapping her arms around his neck, and toppling to the ground.

A strangled noise of surprise escaped the ellon's mouth when he collided with the floor, his lantern skidding a few feet away, and he was shocked to see an elleth on top of him, apparently trying to… do something. He couldn't quite figure it out.

"My lady, what are you doing down here?" He asked curiously, not at all afflicted by her sudden attack. Gently, he nudged her off and she fell ungracefully to the floor, looking defeated, "My lady?"

"I need your keys," She answered quickly, eyes averted, but she could sense his surprise, "I'm going to free them."

There was a momentary pause between them, and Iaurtondariel waited with fear for him to say that he was going to turn her in. However, she was shocked to find him lifting her hand and pressing a set of cold, metal keys into her palm. A gentle smile was plastered on his face, bringing more doubt than comfort to her, but slowly, she wrapped her fingers around the keys.

Smiling again, the elf stood up, "But you could have just asked for them, my lady. There are very few in the palace who agree with the king's decision, so I am more than willing to help aide in their escape."

Iaurtondariel opened her mouth to speak, preparing to give him a long explanation, but the only coherent word that escaped was, "Thanks." The elf nodded in reply, then turned his back to her and continued on his way. He cast her one last glance and shouted over his shoulder:

"Leave them by the cell. I'll be by to get them later." And he was gone.

It took a moment for the elleth to regain her composure, as she was still unsure as to whether she had just been imaging things. Deciding that she was still awake, she hurried towards the sound where she had heard the clanging.

The corridor was poorly lit with only four torches throughout its entire extension, casting many of the cells in complete darkness. She only hoped that the two princes would not be placed in total dark. Another clanging from a cell nearby caught her attention, and she rushed over to it.

She could hear shuffling in the corner as she approached, and as her eyes adjusted to the poor lighting, she dropped to her knees and stuck her head in between the bars as far as they would allow. She squinted, able to make out a figure in the corner, before it suddenly shot upright.

"Iaur…Iaurtondariel?" The figure whispered in disbelief, and relief washed over the elleth like a wave. Tears threatened to spring forth from her eyes as the person fell back into a sitting position, though was slowly advancing towards her, "Is it really you?"

Without a word, the elleth slipped her hand between the bars, and the ellon hurried forward to take it in his own, raising it to his lips. He looked up at her with hopeful, emerald eyes, and she was saddened to see the marks shadowing his face that had not been there before, and his bones seemed to protrude a little bit more than she had remembered. His skin and lips were dry and rough against her hand, but she did not pay it any heed.

"Are you alright, Nórui?" She managed finally, bringing a soft smile to his face.

"I've been better," He replied with a small laugh, "I could really use a nice meal right about now." He then frowned, looking down at her hand in his, "How did you know we were here? You should be in Banemera right now."

Another round of tears threatened to spill forth, but the elleth held her emotions in check, "Not long after we left, I had a strange feeling that something was not right, and I was able to persuade everyone to turn around." She thought about elaborating on all that had transpired since then, but she feared that speaking about it would confirm that it had actually happened. Nórui could sense that she did not speak of all that she knew, but did not press her on the matter.

"Well, you went through all of that trouble to get to us; how about letting us out?" He managed a weak grin, "I would much like to see the sun again."

"Oh, of course!" Iaurtondariel exclaimed, fumbling with the keys in her hand. Each key appeared the same, and there was no markings as to which one belonged with the lock, and so she was forced to sit for a few minutes, trying each key before there was a resonating click and the door swung back.

"We must hurry," She said, stepping into the cell to help him up, but as soon as she drew near, the prince grabbed her hand and pulled her down to his level, enveloping her within his arms tightly.

Iaurtondariel's eyes widened in surprise, and she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. She didn't dare move, or question his actions, but remained as still as stone. She thought that he would hold onto her for eternity when even after minutes had passed, he showed no signs of releasing her.

"Nórui?" She whispered into his hair; she noticed it had lost its usual luster and was clumped together in places from dirt and lack of bathing. Apparently, prisoners were not even allowed to clean themselves, "Nórui, what are you…?"

"I had lost hope," He interrupted her softly, "I had thought that no one would come for us, that my father would not come to his senses. It appears that half of my fears were well-placed." He let her go now, and the elleth suddenly felt colder from the loss of his embrace. A smile broke upon his face, and he placed a kiss on her forehead, "I am glad to know that you are willing to risk your neck a second time for me."

The elleth returned his smile, "Anything for you. Now, let's get your brother, and we'll get you out of this place." Before he could speak, the elf stood and left the cell. She glanced up and down the corridor, expecting to see that the two brothers had been separated. However, a voice calling her name from the next cell over send her heart rate skyrocketing again.

"Are you two finished in there, or shall I have to wait a bit longer to be set free?" Legolas asked, staring at her from between the bars. His brows were raised in question, and Iaurtondariel was half tempted to simply leave him there for that comment.

"I didn't have to come for you at all," She replied, narrowing her eyes, "You know, maybe you and your brother aren't as different as I thought." Almost as soon as it had passed her lips, Iaurtondariel inhaled sharply, waiting now for the barrage of questions to come flying at her. She could sense the curiosity in both elves, but they did not speak of it.

"I won't even ask how you came about getting those keys," The golden haired elf commented as she pulled the door open, "Nor how you managed to navigate this place."

"Good, because I would not answer those questions even if you did ask them," She dropped the mentioned keys under one of the torches, ignoring the question that the younger of the two brothers, and motioned for them to follow, "Come on; I'm already tired of this place."

**XXXXX**

**There you have it. Legolas and Nórui are free. Yay! Not a very exciting chapter, but… at least it's something.**

**I'm going to be turning seventeen on Tuesday! Wee! Happy Birthday to me! Man, I still remember turning ten… le sigh. I'm such an old fart. Yep, that's about all I have to say at the moment. Sorry for the lack of creativity. I'll update faster next time. **

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel**


	17. Loss

**Well. Better late than never, right? Eheh…**

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Chapter 17- Loss

The light of the corridor nearly blinded the three elves as they made their way quickly but silently up the winding stairs, their eyes fixed on the door. As they drew near, they could see the silhouette of someone standing before them, and the brief fear that they would be caught snatched at their hearts, but upon seeing the golden mass of hair and worried eyes staring down at them, they were relieved.

Legolas suddenly pushed past his brother and Iaurtondariel with a strangled gasp towards the elleth watching them. Immediately, he threw his arms around her, nearly knocking her off her feet, and he rested his cheek on her head.

"I am so sorry, Jaimea!" He gushed louder than the other elves, still making their way up the stairs, would have liked, "Are you alright? Oh, please, forgive me, I have put you through so much!"

The elleth listened to his every word, but never attempted to silence him or reassure him. The pounding of his erratic heart filled her ears, and she wondered why she did not respond to his desperate words of apology and love. Perhaps sitting in the cold, dark dungeons had left her to stifled to speak, and yet she had a strange feeling that she should feel more than just indifference and pain towards the ellon who still held her tightly against his chest, unwilling to ever let her go.

"Save your rambling for later, Legolas, however necessary and expected it is," Nórui snapped at his brother, pulling him away roughly from the elleth. The golden haired elf glared back at him, but the warning look in his emerald eyes kept him silent. The Crown Prince returned to Iaurtondariel. However, another elleth standing off to the side caught his eye, and he slowly looked to her.

The dark haired elleth smiled at him, and there was relief in her eyes to see him well and unharmed. Carefully, he approached her, and took her hands gently in his as a small smile grew upon his lips.

A playful glint flashed across his eyes, and he said, "Did you plan this whole escape plot?"

Glithiel glanced quickly to Iaurtondariel, then back to his awaiting face.

"Perhaps, perhaps not." She answered. Nórui grinned, tugging her ever closer.

"'Save your rambling for later'," Legolas repeated his brother's words with some exasperation, "It may not be in your plans, but I have every intention of leaving this place."

"Am I not allowed a few words with my betrothed?"

"No."

Furrowing his brow, the dark haired ellon looked over his shoulder at his brother. Legolas' eyes were stern, and his arms were crossed firmly over his chest. Jaimea stood behind him, looking anxiously, and Iaurtondariel watched him expectantly.

Seeing that they had decided to gang up on him, the Crown Prince sighed dejectedly and released the elleth's hands, "Alright, I give up. I'll leave quietly."

"You're behavior is not of one who had been put in the dungeons by their own father," His brother growled, eliciting a surprised look from Nórui, "Unless you would prefer to return there."

A steely glare formed upon his face, heavily creasing his brow. Without another glance at the golden haired elf, his eyes flickered towards Iaurtondariel and he said, "I hope you have developed a plan." Swallowing hard, she nodded carefully.

"Follow me." Glithiel was quickly at her side, and the two ellyn and elleth found themselves chasing after their rescuers. Not a word was spoken between them, but occasionally their sharp ears would pick out the quiet words shared between the two ellith in front of them, but never loud enough for them to hear clearly. Before they could become aware of it, they had stopped before a door that was surrounded by wet footprints. Iaurtondariel and Glithiel seemed bothered little by it, and so the others did not question them.

At the bottom of the stairs, they stared in surprise at their method of escape.

"The river?" Legolas asked incredulously with one brow raised. Iaurtondariel narrowed her eyes at him.

"Forgive me, I didn't have time to arrange a horse and carriage." Her response was meant with an irritated scowl, but she ignored him.

A few more words were shared between the two ellith that were inaudible even to the others. They watched curiously when Iaurtondariel nodded, then turned to them and pointed towards the opening in the floor where water rushed past. She smiled, "Well, what are we waiting for?" Taking a deep breath, she leapt into the water, and was quickly carried away by the current.

Legolas was next to enter the water after instructing Jaimea to follow after him, which she obeyed without question. This left Nórui still, but he hesitated as he watched the water. Slowly, his emerald eyes shifted upwards to meet those of the elleth. Seeing the look in his eyes, Glithiel folded her hands anxiously in front of her.

Grinning mischievously, he chuckled deeply in his throat and approached her as a predator would stalk its prey.

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Iaurtondariel stared in aggravation at the flood of water that fell from her hair as she squeezed it. Around her, she could hear Legolas and Jaimea pulling themselves up onto the dry shore with sour expressions on their faces as well. It seemed that her method of escape was still unappreciated.

"What is taking Nórui so long?" Legolas ground out as he followed the elleth's example of drying her hair. His clothing must have added an extra ten pounds to his weight, and it was noticeable just trying to stand up. A rustle in the bushes caught their attention, and the prince whirled around defensively, only to growl in frustration when the golden Komuned stalked out slowly, cautiously, with alert eyes. Narrowing his eyes, he looked to Iaurtondariel.

"What now?"

The elleth planted her hands firmly on the ground as she met the ellon's glare with her own, "We wait for your brother, that's what. And if you do not change your attitude, I will have no qualms in returning you to your cell."

"Iaurtondariel, was this here when you came?" Jaimea suddenly spoke up. In her hands was a dark tunic, soiled by black stains that appeared to be blood made darker by the color of the rough fabric. Legolas furrowed his brow, but the other elleth sucked in her breath. Trust Nendir to leave evidence of his presence!

"I do not believe so, no," She lied, "Although I do not know who would desire to come here."

"It has the seal of the Crown Prince on it." Legolas stated slowly. Iaurtondariel's heart leapt into her throat, while Jaimea peered closely at it. The ellon kneeled beside her and took the sleeve in his hand, rubbing it gently between his fingertips. His cerulean eyes trailed a pattern of seemingly random, twisting vines embroidered into the fabric, and yet it meant something to him, "It has been a long while since I have seen one like this."

Shuffling anxiously, the darker elleth said, "Perhaps it is Nórui's? He could have… lost it."

There was a doubtful look in his perceiving eyes, but he let the matter drop, and dropped the clothing in Jaimea's lap. The elleth stared up at him questioningly, but his eyes were now trained on a soaked ellon marching a little bit too proudly up the bank.

"What took you?" Legolas asked accusingly.

"Something that you obviously lack." Nórui replied smugly, glancing between his brother and the elleth he sat beside. The younger prince glared.

The Crown Prince smiled at Iaurtondariel as he came to help her to her feet, not bothering to attempt to dry himself off. The elleth mumbled her thanks under her breath, but stopped short when he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Her eyes caught his, and she asked an unspoken question, but the smile never left his face. Unbidden, a heat crept up and colored her cheeks. The message in his eyes was unreadable to her, if there was one to begin with- she could have been imagining it- but this was what made her uncomfortable. Without a word, she looked away and started off into the forest.

"The others are waiting for us," She called over her shoulder. Her voice cracked slightly, the look in the ellon's eyes still reflecting in her mind, and she hoped that they could not sense it as she mentally berated herself, "Ricamros and Tarmikos are injured, so we must be quick."

"What happened?" Legolas asked quickly.

They could sense the discomfort in her voice as she spoke, "On our way to help you, a pack of wargs attacked us in the middle of the night. We were forced off the edge of a cliff, but only they were forced to endure the entire fall. I was lucky enough to fall not even half of the distance," Her words grew strained as bitter tears threatened to spill down her pale cheeks, "Ricamros is worse off than his brother."

Although questions leapt into their minds, the three elves remained silent and did not delve into the sensitive subject; they would see for themselves when the time came.

"Come on." She said, and disappeared into the thick trees.

Twice on their way out of the forest did they come across guards, one instance nearly resulting in Jaimea's recapture. Though some may have believed the two princes to be innocent, not all believed the same of the elleth, and so it took some quick evasion to keep her out of harm's way. However, they had now been spotted, and in a short amount of time, everyone in Mirkwood would be aware of their escape.

When they finally emerged from the trees, the point of a sword greeted them. They halted on the balls of their toes, Iaurtondariel nearly falling upon the blade in the process. Espenshade's narrowed eyes watched them cautiously for a long moment, in which they all had a brief thought that she would impale them, but then she lowered her weapon and returned to her brothers' sides. Without another word, the dark haired elleth followed quickly after her and dropped to her knees beside Ricamros. The Mirkwood elves watched on with worry in their eyes, but did not approach them for fear of what they might find.

Legolas was the first to make a move towards them, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him, and he whipped around with frustration in his eyes. Nórui stared hard at him, hoping for him to understand the message he wanted to convey, and when the younger prince's face softened, the Crown Price smiled. He ruffled his brother's golden hair playfully, then headed towards the others.

Biting his lip tentatively, the ellon glanced over his shoulder at the elleth who had taken a seat on the frosted grass- although there had not yet been snow in the Woodland Realm, winter made itself known by coating everything in a thin, shimmering layer of ice. Hesitantly, Legolas took a seat beside her and crossed his legs.

The silence was uncomfortable to him, and he wondered if he should wait for her to speak, or if she was waiting for him. One glance at her told him that she didn't have any intentions of doing it any time soon, so he sighed heavily.

"You are angry with me, Jaimea," He said more than asked. Jaimea's eyes narrowed as she pulled at the blades of grass with her fingers, giving him his answer. Legolas frowned, "Why?"

"If you weren't so stubborn and thick headed and-" She cut herself before she went to far. Her fists clenched tightly on her soiled gown, then said in a strained voice, "This never would have happened. We would still be in Mirkwood, you would be prince, and we would be happy together. That was all I ever wanted with you, but something that I cannot control stole it away."

Legolas' cerulean eyes shifted to his boots, "I thought you had forgiven me for that."

"I had." She ground out. The prince stole a glance at her out of the corner of his eye.

"But now you don't?"

"I forgive you for being stupid, but I don't forgive you for telling your father about my brother."

The ellon's brows shot up to his hairline, and he had to regain his breath before he could speak, "You think _I _told him about that? I would never do that to you."

"Then who was it?"

"If I knew, I would have strangled them by now," He spat bitterly, "I swear to you, it was not I who told the king," He dared to reach out and place his hand upon hers, and was quite relieved that she did not recoil from his touch. Legolas smiled, "I still love you, you know."

For a moment, he thought he saw the slightest smile tug at her lips, but the moment was broken with an anguished cry from one of the others. Immediately, the two leapt to their feet and rushed over to them. An explosion of golden light nearly blinded them, and they had to shield their eyes with their hands. There was a shrill, tortured screech from a falcon as it sped away from them, its golden feathers glinting in the autumn sunlight.

Tarmikos and Iaurtondariel were kneeled before the silver haired prince, Nórui standing just behind them, when Legolas and Jaimea joined them. The darker elleth stared down at him with a mixture of horror and pain on her face, while the other Muru could only shut his eyes and turn his head aside. It appeared as though Ricamros was only sleeping, but after many long moments in which they all expected his eyes to suddenly spring open, the prince had failed to take even a single shallow breath. The muscles in his face had smoothed out, and there was no wrinkle upon his skin.

A strangled sob ripped from Iaurtondariel's throat as she rested her head on Ricamros' lifeless body.

**XXXXX**

**Whew. That was… interesting. I have been debating doing this for months now, and I hope I made the right choice. No matter how hard it was for me to do so. **

**So, should I explain my absence? Well, I simply stopped writing. I decided that I was going to stop writing for as long as it took me to get my muse back. And, obviously, it has returned. I actually **_**wanted**_** to write this chapter; the first time in a very long time. It may not be long, but it's something, right? I really liked writing this one.**

**Anyway, **_**please, please, please**_** review! I love hearing what you all think. **

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel**


	18. Moth to a Flame

**Ugh. I'm really sorry that I have a terrible updating schedule. Trust me, I wish I could just spit out chapters continuously, but I can't. There's this little thing called real life that tends to get in the way. Anyway.**

**Just to make it clear now, this entire chapter takes place in one night. I don't think I made that obvious enough.**

**XXXXX**

Chapter 18- Moth to a Flame

Hungry flickers of what was meant to be a flame licked at wet wood. Moths flittered about the sparse light, seeking warmth from the cold night air. Instead of the heat that those around the fire had sought, they received only a cloud of smoke as their reward for their efforts no matter where they sat, thanks to the wind that could not decide in which direction it wanted to blow. Finally, with one bitter gust, the fire was pushed away from its circle of rocks and flickered out.

There was silence for a long moment, as if no one had noticed the sudden absence of the flame they had fought so hard to make. One shuffled their feet, then stood up.

"We should move on," He said softly as his navy blue eyes pierced the darkness. He wrapped his cloak about his arms, then started forward without another word to his companions.

Again, there was silence among the group. One by one, they stood from their spots on the ground and followed after the Muru. The stars above shone on his silver hair, and that was their beacon through the darkness.

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All who passed the elleth watched her with curious eyes, wondering what had caused her to be so stiff and upset. Her fingers reached up to twist anxiously in her thick, dark hair, and when they were not doing that, they were tugging at the embroidery on her sleeves. The elleth's eyes twitched from side to side as she prayed that no other elves could sense her discomfort. Unfortunately for her, only a fool would not notice.

Relief came in the form of the door of her private chambers, and she immediately swung the door open and leapt inside, then slammed it a bit loudly behind her. She let out the breath she was unaware she had been holding, then scanned the room for anything out of place.

An ellon stretched across the bed looked up at her entrance, then smiled warmly at her. He sat up fully, exposing his bare chest. Beads of water trickled down his skin from his wet hair, and the elleth could only chuckle softly at him.

"I see you are making yourself at home," She stated as he hopped off the side and began searching for the tunic he had shed.

"Is it not my home in the first place?" He teased, and she laughed again. The ellon tugged his tunic over his head and wringed his hair out with his hands, much to her displeasure, then smiled, "Thank you again, Glithiel, for allowing me to stay here."

His words having reminded her of the reason for his presence, she frowned, "Of course, Nendir."

"If you do not wish me to be here, you may say so."

"Of course not!" Glithiel immediately defended, shaking her head, "You are family; I must help you."

"By acting against that same family?" He questioned. The elleth glared at him, indignant.

"You speak as though you do not wish to be here."

Nendir laughed, and strode forward to place a kiss on her forehead. Eyes dancing happily, he retook his seat on the bed and watched as the elleth made to join him. Much to his surprise, she rested her head on his shoulder, but he simply smiled and leaned into her.

"Are you sure you will be able to help?" The elleth questioned as she drew her knees up to her chest, "It will be difficult if you do not wish to be seen."

Glithiel could hear the ellon's chuckle rumble deeply in his chest, "You doubt my abilities." A grin split across her lips, and she laughed softly into his shoulder. Silence then filled the room, but they were comforted by it, relieved and elated to hold each other again. However, the elleth felt guilt begin to eat away at her chest at the thought of the two brothers unaware that their true savior had been the one they had longed to see As she stared at the folds in the bedspread, she wondered if she had been right to allow Nendir to escape under his brothers' noses, and if she herself even had the right to be with him.

"I think it would be best to work as much as possible when all others are asleep, so as not to be discovered. That way, we will not have to fuss over sleeping arrangements," The ellon drummed his fingers on her shoulder, then stood up and placed his hands on his hips. With half-interested eyes, he scanned the room as if judging its worthiness, then smiled at her over his shoulder, "Yes, that would work out quite well."

Glithiel stood beside him, "If that is what you wish."

That night, Nendir began to carry out his plan, although achieved little success. His first priority was to relearn the corridors and passageways, which he did with little difficulty, but nothing else was accomplished. He had managed to catch a brief glimpse of his father entering his chambers, and was concerned to see the signs of distress etching itself on his fair face. Never before had the king looked so ill at ease and tense, and the former prince began to wonder if there was anything he could do at all. He returned to Glithiel's chambers earlier than expected, and, after placing a kiss on her forehead, threw himself on the couch and fell into a deep sleep. Unbeknownst to him, those who he had helped set free were mourning in the darkness.

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The black sky opened up that night and shed its tears on the weary company. None had spoken to one another, unwilling to form the necessary words that were required to express the sorrow that they all felt. As of yet, the golden falcon had not made her return, and a few in the group wondered when they would see her again, if at all. But whenever a biting, autumn air whipped their faces, the fleeting thoughts of the Muru would be taken with it.

It was when the moon had hit its peak in the sky did Tarmikos finally come to a halt, and the others followed his example obediently. His navy blue eyes narrowed up at the stars, and then looked over at his companions. They were weary, and ready to rest, but his desire to simply walk was still not sated, and he was not yet willing to stop. But before he could move on, they all began to drop to the ground one by one, and stared adamantly up at him.

"We have been walking for hours," Legolas said before the Muru could argue, "And we don't even know where we are going."

"It would be best to wait for the morning before we move anywhere else," Nórui added when Tarmikos appeared to still not be convinced. The Muru, now more aggravated than before, glared at the ellyn, but complied to their wishes.

However, within moments, the group was up again and searching for something to start a fire. There were minimal trees in the area, and the grass had died down from the cold. They split up in pairs, all except for Tarmikos, whom no one wanted to be near.

Jaimea followed silently at Legolas' side as they started off to the south where a small patch of trees lay in the distance. Crickets chirped up ahead, but fell quiet when the two elves drew near, and neither were able to draw comfort from the sounds of the creatures of the night as they normally did. Their minds were too filled with grief for one they had hardly known, and yet had grown so close to.

Legolas was ever aware at the elleth by him, and his mind struggled to find the right words to use with her. Before Ricamros had passed- he refused to say he had interrupted- the ellon had felt he nearly had been forgiven, but now he was unsure if the feelings were just part of the moment, or if everything had been real. He could still remember the smile tugging at her lips, and the way her voice had sounded so sweet to him, but a part of his mind told him that those memories would fail.

While the prince struggled within himself, the elleth wondered of her faith to Legolas, and him to her, and if such a thing as love between them would truly work out in the end. So many times now had their relationship been on shaking ground that she believed the feelings between them could easily be forgotten if given time. Whether that would be best for both of them or not, she did not know, and she was unsure if she would want to discover the answer.

Something twitched on her palm, and Jaimea looked down to see Legolas' fingers lightly brushing her skin. She sighed softly, then cast her dark eyes forward.

"I have brought you harm since the beginning."

Legolas' voice and choice of words caused the elleth to glance sharply up at him. His eyes twitched, wanting to meet her gaze, but he prevented himself from doing so. The feeling of his hand on hers disappeared.

Jaimea frowned, knowing him to be correct but not wanting to admit the truth, "Only because you wanted what was best for me."

"And what is that, Jaimea? It was not love, but selfishness, that drove me to bring you along to Banemera. I wanted you there for myself, not to aide us." He countered.

"You speak as though this is the reality that you desire."

"If there was anything at all to change the truth, I would do it," He said quickly, stopping to face her. He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips, his cerulean eyes gazing into hers unwaveringly. The intensity in that look caused Jaimea to swallow softly and to chew on her bottom lip.

But then he let her go, allowing her hands to fall in place at her sides, and then he cast his eyes to the side. Hardly audible, he whispered, "Do you want it to end?"

"End?" She repeated just as softly, as if both were afraid of disturbing the night's song. Jaimea's eyes searched his for an answer, sign of a jest, anything that would reassure her that she had heard wrong. Her voice trembled as she said, "Why would I want it to end?"

Legolas turned his gaze upon her then, and she was shocked to see them shimmering with unshed tears. He said again, "Do you want to end it?"

The elleth hesitated, "You cannot ask that of me. You cannot tell me to say this."

Then, much to her confusion, Legolas smiled, but it was not one of happiness, rather of sorrowful revelation. Jaimea shook her head beseechingly when he said, "If you had wanted it to continue, you would have said so."

The elleth stepped towards him and placed her hands on his chest, "I love you, Legolas. Do you not love me? Do you not wish to continue loving each other?"

"I do, Jaimea," He placed his hands over hers, "I do very much."

"Then I do as well."

"Is that your mind speaking, or your heart?"

Jaimea leapt to retort, but found no words would come to her lips. His piercing eyes caused her to tremble, and she begged herself to tell him that he was her world, and that she could not continue without him, but a small part of her whispered that she would survive, that she did not depend on him. Horrified at this prospect, she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I do not know."

Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and a kiss was placed on the nape of her neck, "Then I am willing to wait for the answer to reveal itself, even if it takes eternity," A hand caressed her cheek softly, "You have become my world, and I will do all it takes to become yours."

Jaimea smiled up at him, and made to speak, but he silenced her with a finger on her lips.

"But until that time, I want to begin again. I am an ellon, and you are an elleth, and nothing more. I will win your heart in the proper way," A smirk slowly appeared on his face, "And this time, I will not send a messenger to communicate."

The elleth laughed softly, but silenced herself and moved away from him. She met his gaze, and nodded slightly, "So you mean to end it."

Slowly, Legolas nodded once, "I do."

Instead of the sorrow she expected, it felt as if a great weight had been removed from her shoulders. She felt lighter, and with less guilt, and she knew his words to be truth. She had his love, and now she needed to find it in herself to give him her own. One look in his eyes told her that it would not be difficult, if he kept to what he said. And that very prospect set a flame in her heart.

"And now, I tire of these depressing words," Legolas said with a playful gleam in his cerulean orbs. He took her hands in his own, but she sensed no attempt to go back on his words in his touch, and slowly he swayed, guiding her to do the same. A soft whisper of a song spilled forth from his lips like water sprinkling in a stream, and her thoughts leapt back to her home in the forest with her lost family all about her.

The song broke for a moment, and he said, "Like a moth to a flame, you have shown me that I need your love, despite the pain it may bring upon me. Perhaps one day, you will realize the same about yourself." She listened, but she did not respond. Opting not to press the matter any further, Legolas smiled jovially, thankful that the thought of Ricamros had vanished for the moment, "Well then, how about a dance beneath the stars with nothing but the song of our beating hearts to guide our feet?"

Jaimea giggled softly, a faint blush coloring her skin, and she nodded, "Of course, my lord."

The coldness radiating off her form stifled the Crown Prince to the point that he desired to simply leave her there alone. She made no motion of acknowledgement in his direction, walking as if she were doing so just for the sake of it. Her jade eyes were empty of emotion, and her face did not have the usual brightness that he had loved. It was as if she were an empty shell with no further desire to go on living, and he was there only to watch her slow stumble into nothingness.

"Iaurtondariel," He said softly, and she stopped, but did not look at him. He placed a hand on the curve of her back, "Iaurtondariel, you cannot remain like this, you know. We are all in mourning for Ricamros," The lady flinched at the name, "But we must not let ourselves fall into despair. He would not want that of us."

A white flake fell on the bridge of Nórui's nose, and he crossed his eyes to look at it before it melted into a droplet of water. His emerald eyes looked upwards to see nothing but the dark sky and the shining stars that were strewn about, and then another flake fell on his forehead.

There was a muffled thud below him, and he looked down to see Iaurtondariel sitting on the ground, facing away from him. The elf dropped to his knees beside her, "I am here for you."

After a moment, Iaurtondariel took a shuddering breath, "I know."

Nórui smiled, and placed a hand over hers. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around his, and drew herself closer to his warmth. Dark mahogany tresses tickled her skin as she lay her head on his shoulder, and he pressed his cheek to her hair. Another snowflake fell on their clasped hands.

"It is hard to believe," She started softly, watching as the mist from her breath traveled upwards to the heavens, "That only a few days ago, he was holding me in his arms, alive and well."

The ellon frowned lightly, "As long as his memory never fades from your mind, he will live on."

Iaurtondariel stiffened for a moment as a wave of tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, but she was able to contain her emotions. Still, her voice cracked as she replied, "It is like you told me: one day, I will find someone who makes me truly happy. My only wish is that I had realized he was that person sooner so that I may have had more time with him."

"You dwell on the negatives, Iaurtondariel," He pressed his lips against her temple, "Think not of his death, but of his life."

Another shudder passed through her, and Nórui sighed softly into her hair, "Cry, my lady, if you must. I will think no lesser of you, but see only that you are strong enough to not only contain your emotions, but to let them spill freely as well."

With those words, the wall she had built up came crashing down, and tears fell like a stream down her alabaster cheeks. She cried loudly, and Nórui held her to him to soften the sounds. Whispering gentle words to her, he weaved his fingers through her wavy hair, and placed small kisses on her forehead and cheeks, "It will be alright," He said to her, brushing away a tear with his knuckle, "I am here for you." She tugged at his tunic, drawing him closer.

The elleth's sobs began to soften , until her body would only shudder lightly against him. The ellon shut his eyes, and he hummed softly to her as he rocked her side to side, willing her to relax and find comfort in the night's peace and in his embrace. After a long moment of silence, he began to release her, but halted suddenly when her body stiffened.

"It's not fair." She muttered bitterly, and Nórui cast her a side-long glance.

"Not all is fair," He murmured cautiously. Iaurtondariel stood up abruptly, and her cloak fell at her feet, unheeded. The Crown Prince stared up at her back, then followed her example when she started off at a brisk pace. He could hear her muttering the phrase under her breath.

"Come back, Iaurtondariel," He said calmly, yet sternly. When she ignored him, he ran to catch up, and he grasped her wrist in his grasp, "There is no need for anger."

Suddenly, the elleth whipped around to face him, and there was a flame smoldering in her eyes, "What do you know of it? You do not understand what I am feeling. I have every right to be angry."

This time, it was Nórui's turn to bristle, and he planted his feet apart and tilted his chin upwards, "You are the one not understanding; I know exactly how you feel."

Iaurtondariel sneered, and wrenched her hand away from his grip. Dried leaves crunched under her feet as she continued to storm off in the opposite direction, and she tried to ignore the sounds of the ellon in pursuit of her. She felt his hand graze her arm, and she picked up the pace.

"Anger is not the way to make this better!" He shouted at her, "You only disgrace his memory by acting this way! Like an elfling!"

"Leave me alone!"

"Absolutely not! Not until I am able to force it into your mind what sort of dishonor you commit!"

Nórui stepped forward quickly and grabbed her arm, whirling her around and pulling her against him. Iaurtondariel glared up at him, and there was frustration and anger simmering deep in her eyes. He met her eyes, and his scowl mirrored hers. For a moment, there was silence between them, and any onlooker who did not know better would think them lovers were it not for the fire that burned in their eyes and the flaring sparks shooting and bouncing between their bodies.

The elleth's gaze questioned him, but it was a long while before he spoke again. She realized that his anger soon subsided, and his grip on her loosened, though did not remove itself completely. Her own emotions began to diminish, and they were replaced with the overwhelming sorrow that she had previously felt. Compared to that, she preferred the fury.

Her voice was soft, but it cracked with unshed tears as she spoke, "Why can't you just leave me be?"

A smile flitted upon the ellon's lips, "What sort of friend would I be to allow that?" He chuckled softly, and brought her close, pressing a kiss on her forehead. He tilted her chin with his forefinger, and his emerald eyes graced over her features, lighting her cheeks with a bright blush, "You should not be frowning. It does not suit you, and it mars your beauty."

Then, something shifted in his eyes, and she did not miss the sudden turbulence of his emotions. The feel of his hands on her had sparked an unexpected awareness within her, and the air about them crackled with something she could not explain. Perhaps she imagined it, but she thought she saw the elf tremble of something she did not know.

But then he released her, and the feeling was gone, to be replaced with a cold emptiness that made her want to wrap her arms about her.

"We should try to find wood for a fire." He stated stiffly, turning his back to her. What met him was not the never ending expanse of land, but with a pair of glowing eyes so pale that he, for a moment, believed them to be stars fallen from the night sky.

**XXXXX**

**You know that line Legolas said about dancing beneath the stars? I wrote that back in May or June on the paper you get in a fortune cookie, and actually managed to keep track of it. Amazing, no? **

**So… yea. Have you ever seen someone with eyes so pale blue they look white? I have a couple of times, and they're really pretty. Yee! **

**I'll try to get the next chapter out as quickly as I can, but you all should know better by now not to believe me when I say that. Le sigh. **

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel**


	19. Guess and Leap

**Well. Although I definitely haven't been updating (just like I said last chapter), the past month has been pretty good for me. I've got three acceptance letters to some universities, so now I'm only waiting on two more answers before I make my final decision. Secondly, I **_**finally**_** got my driver's license. Huzzah!**

**Oh, and I have winter break coming up in a couple of weeks. Another huzzah!**

**So, let's get this chapter going, eh? **

**XXXXX**

Chapter 19- Guess and Leap

Thud.

The elf tensed in her chair.

Thud.

Long fingers tightened on the quill.

Thud. Crack.

"_Nendir_!" Glithiel spat, whipping around in her seat to face the ellon laying spread-eagle across the bed. Arm paused in midair, the ellon rolled his head over to look at her agitated face. He opened his mouth to ask the matter, but he caught the dangerous glint in her eyes. Not wanting to risk imposing her wrath upon him, he cautiously lowered his hand and said meekly under his breath, "Sorry."

Sighing huffily, the elleth turned her back to him again, "If you are bored, Nendir, then I suggest trying to do something to help your brothers. That's why you are here, is it not?"

Although she couldn't see it, he waved his hand noncommittally in the air, "I'm working on it."

"Are you, really?" She asked indignantly.

"I am, really," He mocked in the same tone. There was a pause in her writing as she controlled to urge to toss him off the balcony, and then she resumed.

"May I ask what you are doing?"

"Waiting for you to answer my questions." Was his immediate response. She turned to face him with one brow raised. Assuming this to be a signal for him to continue, he sat up and stretched languidly, waiting for that familiar pop in his back, and then he blinked tiredly at her, "As I have not been here for quite a while, I am not quite up to date on the daily dramas and what not. You tell me that recently, the palace has been under a sort of spell. Could that have affected Adar's mind somehow?"

"The Muruien who stayed here for a time never mentioned anything of the sort. Eruko was killed anyway, so I cannot imagine his powers still holding influence over the elves." She answered briskly, quickly discarding this idea. Nendir did not seem in the least bit perturbed by her curt response, and pressed on.

"Does anyone have a grudge against Legolas?" He tried.

"Not that I know—wait, why do you single out only Legolas?"

Nendir grinned slyly and shrugged, "Because Nórui is the perfect example of everything a prince is supposed to be. Legolas, on the other hand, has turned his tail on enough people that he is bound to have some who are less… appreciative of their youngest prince."

Much to his surprise, his comment elicited a brief chuckle from Glithiel, who answered with a bit less brusqueness, "If you put it that way, I am sure that someone does have a grudge against him. As to who, I would not know."

The elleth watched him carefully when he fell silent, apparently tossing over all the possible ideas in his mind. After a long while of nothing but him shaking his head and mumbling so quietly she couldn't hear, Glithiel began to turn away again, but his deep voice made her jump.

"Acacia?"

Glithiel frowned, "Who?"

Taking amusement in her ignorance, he flung himself back onto the bed, allowing his dark hair to spread wildly about his head, "One of Legolas' former admirers. Remember?"

Brow creasing in thought, the elleth was able to conjure up some fleeting images of a very young Legolas and another elfling. He and the girl had been inseparable until one day, she tried to kiss his cheek, and he ended up pushing her in a puddle of mud out of shock. Despite his profuse apologies, she never spoke with him again.

Glithiel looked up at Nendir and saw a grin on his face that obviously said he did not take his own idea seriously. With a humorless smile, she answered, "No. Not Acacia."

The former prince snickered a bit, but she paid it no heed, "Any other guesses?"

Flopping onto his stomach, Nendir rested his head in his palms with a thoughtful pout on his lips, "My guess is that it has something to do with Jaimea." The elleth scoffed.

"An elfling could have discovered that, Nendir. Legolas and Nórui were only punished because of association."

"Perhaps," Nendir murmured, ignoring her comment, "If I knew exactly why she was convicted in the first place." He stared pointedly at the elleth.

A dark shadow passed across Glithiel's face, and she looked bitterly down at her feet. Having known her for only a short time, she had believed Jaimea to be decent elf, and was not at all expecting to find out that she was related to the one who had killed the queen. Glithiel glanced up at Nendir's face with a cold stare. _He_ had been the one to start the entire thing. _He _had been the one that destroyed the entire royal family. Elinyro had been sure to leave the family in pieces, hoping that they would never be able to recover again, and _she_ knew about it. Jaimea knew all about her brother's little plan, but did nothing to prevent it.

As her mind drifted into this dark corridor, Glithiel wondered why she had even assisted in her escape in the first place, but then quickly realized. Had Nórui and Legolas only been rescued, Legolas never would have left without Jaimea, despite his hostility towards her. And if Legolas did not leave, neither would Nórui, and that was something that Glithiel would not have allowed. It was all about Nórui, she realized, without a trace of guilt.

"She is a murderer." She answered stiffly.

There was silence on Nendir's part, but she did not look up. The bed squeaked in protest against the shifting weight.

"She did not look it."

Glithiel's eyes shifted up to his, "She was Elinyro's sister. I trust you remember him."

There was a shift in energy in him, but he was able to dispel it quickly, "That does not make her a murderer."

"She knew about what was to come."

"That does not make her a murderer."

The pot of ink nearly tipped over when the elleth slammed a fist down on her desk in her fury, "Then what is a murderer to you, Nendir? What must the person do to make themselves a killer?"

There was a look of indifference upon his face again, something that she was beginning to despise about him. He held his hands out in front of him, palms upward, and he studied them. Then, he turned them so Glithiel could see them as well, and he said softly, "These hands killed my mother, almost killed my sister that is like a daughter to me, but you do not see me punished. When no one made to do it, I did it myself." He added when she began to argue.. Instead, a firm scowl se elf upon her features.

"That is different."

Nendir sighed in defeat and let his hands hang limp in front of him. A few moments passed in which Glithiel turned resolutely away from him, signaling the end of the fruitless conversation. Casting a glance at her, he lay flat and allowed his arm to swing against the footboard of the bed.

Thud. Thud.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOI

"Have you always lived in Mirkwood?"

"No, my parents brought me from Rivendell on a trip, and I loved Mirkwood so much that I begged to stay. That was when it was still beautiful and safe."

"How old were you when you came?"

"Not yet at my majority."

Legolas stopped abruptly, and she did not notice until she was a good few feet from him. Raising one delicate eyebrow, Jaimea turned to look at him with a questioning look on her face. There was a look of consternation in his cerulean eyes as he studied her, and the elleth began to feel self-conscious. Shifting anxiously, she shrugged.

"Is there something wrong with that?"

The prince shook his head, then continued to walk beside her, "How old are you now?" He continued with his swarm of questions, but she seemed less willing to answer this particular one. Twisting a lock of hair around her finger, she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Younger than you." She answered casually. A small smile formed upon her lips at his annoyed growl.

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, but--"

"Alright then."

Legolas stopped again, this time crossing his arms tightly over his chest and scowling at her. Humming softly under her breath, she pretended not to notice as she bent over to snatch up a small stick and added it to the small pile tucked under her arm. The ellon may not have been too keen on fulfilling their purpose of getting a fire started, but she certainly was; not only was it bitterly cold, she preferred not to have to deal with any unwanted visitors.

Seeing that his attempt to sneak the answer out of her was futile, the prince allowed himself to slump forwards with a dejected sigh, and he prodded faithfully after her, already coming up with the next set of questions for her. Although he certainly wasn't happy that she had opted to take a step back from each other, Legolas was more than elated that they were finally able to talk about without any distractions. Yes, it had been his fault for being such a git the entire time, but he wouldn't admit that any time soon; that last little bit of pride lodged in the corner of his heart wasn't quite ready to break free.

"What about your--"

The moment was broken by a sudden, high pitched screech that made both elves cringe. They shared a meaningful glance, and then broke out into a full sprint in the direction of the scream.

It did not take long to locate the source, and when they did, they could only stare in surprise at the sight before them. Tarmikos sat on the hard ground, wincing as he rubbed his aching backside. Looking closely, Jaimea and Legolas could see that all of his bare skin had been covered in black soot. Struggling to free himself from his cloak that had been wrapped tightly around his body, constricting his arms and legs, was Nórui, and in the middle of it all was a completely drenched Iaurtondariel, looking as though she was about to cry.

The two elves couldn't help it: they laughed.

Having felt like they had not laughed in ages, the elves felt suddenly liberated and freed from the burdens upon their shoulders. For just a moment, none of that terrible business had ever happened in Mirkwood and Ricamros had never passed away. For just a moment, life was back to normal.

But then that moment faded when they realized that another ringing, excited, and wholly unfamiliar laughter joined them. Legolas and Jaimea stopped immediately, snapping their heads around in search of the owner.

Nórui, finally having managed to pull the hood of his cloak from his face, noticed them and shouted in panic, "Get out of here! _Run_!" However, they reacted too slowly. By the time they turned to flee, the few sticks in Jaimea's arms had been snatched and were hovering in midair. Stunned, the two elves simply stared at them as they were tossed aside, completely oblivious to the shouting of the mahogany haired ellon.

Legolas yelped in pain when the plait at the back of his head was given a sharp yank, then he was suddenly kicked from behind and found himself face first in the dirt. The elleth mimicked the screech that had originally drawn them to the area in the first place when her dirty skirts were suddenly thrown upwards, but she hastily shoved them back down and held the fabric tightly in her clenched fists. The unfamiliar laughter ensued again, and each member of the party gazed around in anger and frustration.

Was followed next was complete and utter silence, but more uncomfortable than anything else. Legolas began to drag himself to his feet, but then he noticed the faintest bit of movement among the drying grass. Eyes narrowing, he concentrated on a section of grass that was… moving?

With a growl, the golden haired prince leapt forward and contacted with something, but whatever it was, he could not see it for the life of him. Something made an 'oof' sound and impacted noticeably with the ground, then nothing. He imagined that he must look like a fool, floating a few inches off the ground with no apparent means of support. His wild eyes glanced around at the others, but they seemed just as surprised as he was.

A warm breeze tickled his neck, causing him to shiver violently, and he distinctly felt the ruffling of clothing beneath him. There was a soft chuckling right by his ear and something was rested between his shoulder blades.

"If you wanted me that badly, you could have asked." Was whispered to him.

Legolas leapt up, frightened out of his wits, and that high pitched laughter started again. Heart thundering, he willed his voice to be even as he shouted, "Show yourself, foul creature! Or are you too coward?"

"No," The voice said gleefully, startling the others so that they jumped, "But you show your cowardice by springing away like a skittish deer from a mere whispering!" There was silence for a moment as Legolas simmered, but then the voice suddenly leapt, "Oh, Prince Tarmikos! I hardly recognized you there, covered in filth as you are. What would your father say?" It cackled.

Eyes wide, Tarmikos stood up ramrod straight, "As your prince, Muru, I command you to reveal your identity!"

"Hmm, how could I say no to a voice like that?" Tarmikos' face screwed up in a mixture of anger and disgust.

A flash of silver hair suddenly appeared before them—

"Now you see me!"

The silver disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

"Now you don't!"

Laughter, and another flash of dark skin—

"Over here!"

And it vanished again.

"Too slow!"

Mad cackles caused those present to grit their teeth in frustration. Then, the sounds began to fade as if traveling away from them. Eyes whipped in all directions, expecting the person to suddenly show their face, but once the laughter had faded, nothing followed it. No one moved a muscle for a long time, but when it became apparent that whoever the Muru had been was gone, they allowed themselves to relax slightly.

And then, as one, all eyes turned expectantly to Tarmikos, who looked just as shaken by the experience as they had been.

"What _was _that?" Legolas demanded, echoed by his brother. Iaurtondariel was still dripping wet, and Jaimea's face was still alight with a blush. Tarmikos narrowed his eyes at the elves as his previous hostility returned tenfold.

"How should I know? Just get a fire going!" And he stormed away.

**XX**

**I **_**really**_** enjoyed writing this chapter. I actually managed it all in one sitting, too. Yay! So, it's snowing out right now. We got out of school early today, and I'm thinking we'll have a delay tomorrow, but I probably just jinxed it. Rawr. **

**Okay. I'm not gonna say I'll update soon, because that obviously means I won't, so… I will not update soon:D **

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel**


	20. Lo Siento

**Alright, I'm sure you guys are so disappointed to see that this isn't a chapter. Eh. **

**I'll be honest: I'm not enjoying this story nearly as much as I did LIMM, and I wouldn't be surprised if any reader left is losing or has already lost interest as well. So, I have good news and bad news, I suppose.**

**Bad news: I'm going to put this story on hiatus. Besides, only an idiot wouldn't be able to figure out the ending (except for a few things). **

**Good news: I'm not done writing. I'm simply going to move onto a new story that I have listed on my profile. Which one it is, I haven't decided it. Whatever it is may just be a one shot to get my thoughts going again. We'll see.**

**Now, I'm not saying this will never be finished, because I have every intention to see it to its end. Just not yet. So hang in with me, alright? Who ever is still reading. Keep an eye out for something new. : )**

**Until Next Time,**

**Manwathiel**


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